Semper Victoria
by Katkiller-V
Summary: Humanity is on the brink of self-destruction, and unobtanium may be only hope for our species. While humanity begins their return, they find only a few surviving scientists between them and an increasingly active Eywa, and the promise of a war that would alter the fate of all. A story where Pandora is not an Eden, where desperate battles will determine who lives... and who dies.
1. Prologue: Many Meetings

I do not own Avatar. Obviously. I am rather partial to my original characters and plot though.

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**Special thanks to Khaos974 for recommending this story on TvTropes!**

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**Prologue: Many Meetings**

**Date**: September 30th, 2154

**Location**: New York City, North American Union, Earth, Sol System

Johnathan Bordeaux had been the North American Union's representative to the United Nations for a decade and a half. He liked to think he'd dealt with a lot in his time at the post.

_Three Presidents... let's see, Golan, Conner, and most recently, Baines. Four wars..that mess in Cuba, Venezuela, Indonesia, and then the bloody affair in the Congo._ _I had to help control the fallout when the Atlantic Energy Company imploded, literally, and the RDA and GLC went to war over the assests. _

But he'd never entered the general assembly hall, and had it been deadly silent.

His first thought upon entering the assembly hall was that something disastrous must have happened.

Normally, the moments before a full meeting of the UN General Assembly were fill with the soft chatter of politicians speaking to their allies, assistants quietly rushing about, the crowd in the general seating section buzzing with the excitement of watching the world government in action. But today, there was a nothing. No noise at all emerged from the hundreds of human beings packed into the massive room. He could hear the quiet whine of the lights far overhead, the slight creaking of metal as men and women shifted in their chairs.

The total silence was unnerving, unnatural, it had no place in that room of noise and debate, and he felt a cold chill run down his spine.

Johnathan Bordeaux moved swiftly towards the seat marked "North American Union", trying desperate to ignore the unnerving situation.

Something glowing white on the main projection screen caught the corner of his eye, and he glanced to the front of the room as he sat.

_Native Revolt. Mining Failed. Full report on return. VS_

The short statement burned his eyes. He froze, uncomprehending, staring slack-jawed at the message there.

He closed his eyes, slowly mastering his thoughts and emotions, and forced himself to take his seat.

_This.. this can't be. It can't be. In the name of God, we need unobtanium!_ More thoughts roared through his brain as he stared at the screen, _Native revolt.. native revolt.. how? Why? The RDA's Sec-Ops force was massive, even if they were just mercenaries! I've seen the designs of their colony, it would have taken ten thousand Na'vi to storm Hell's Gate!_

Even as his mind rebelled against the very idea of the message, a small door near the front of the room opened and the Secretary-General strode briskly into the hall, taking his place behind the center podium. He looked.. haggard, worn, like someone with far too much weight suddenly placed upon their shoulders.

"I see that you all have taken notice of the message we received from the _Venture Star_. Good." he began , his Russian accent far thicker than usual, "And since someone will ask, yes, we have confirmed the message with Administrator Selfridge."

Shouting broke out instantly. His translator didn't bother trying to make any sense of it for him, and Bordeaux instead forced himself to sit still, and not join in the cacophony overwhelming the room.

The Secretary-General had to shout to make his next words heard, "How and why this happened will not be known to us until the_ Venture Star_ returns. What we must decide now, and in the years ahead, is how the human race will respond to this, not placing unfounded accusation and blame!"

The shouting continued until the sound of a fog horn boomed through the room, silence falling instantly as everyone clasped their hands to their ears.

"We will have order!" the leader of the free world was shouting, "We are not barbarians, and we will have order here!"

Quiet grumbling met this, but no one resumed shouting. Glaring at the assembled representatives, their leader brought up new information on the screen behind him. "That is not to say that someone must be punished for this. The RDA was handed humanity's trust in procuring the resource that could well save both this world and our species, and they have failed. Measures must be taken to limit them for this and for the.. excesses, that they have begun to flaunt so recently."

He paused to sip water, everyone in the room hanging on his words. "My staff, in conjunction with the representatives of the ICA, have come to some basic decisions regarding this point. Pending a full debrief of Administrator Selfridge, we believe that placing the bulk of the ISV fleet under the control of the ICA will be the first step in reminding the RDA that they are, in the end, held accountable to us. They are not so far above reproach as their CEO seems to believe. This failure on Pandora could cause untold problems both here and in our colonies on Luna and Mars, the RDA must be held accountable for this."

A general rumbling of agreement met the end of the speech, and though numerous ambassador's rose to speak, the Secretary-General pointed to the representative of South Africa, "This failure could spark a massive upswing in the small-scale resource wars currently underway," his spoke in a rolling basso, "Should not more punitive measures being undertaken against the RDA for this?"

Tumultuous shouting again broke out, and the electronic klaxon sounded once more. After everyone recovered from the cascade of noise, Bordeaux leaped to his feet, and receiving a nod from the Secretary, he began "No. The RDA is too deeply ingrained into the world economy to simply break up, and we do not yet know the full story of what occurred there. I agree with the Secretary-General and with the ICA, removing control of the ISV fleet to a more neutral body as a punitive measure will suffice for now, and I move that we vote immediately upon this subject."

A dozen other representatives applauded and several of them leaped to their feet, shouting "Seconded!"

The vote was swift and nearly unanimous, the more powerful nations eager to limit the RDA before it's influence and power ran out of control, and the smaller nations were just as eager to cripple the corporate giant and regain control of their own lands.

Bordeaux was not done yet, however, as a new thought had occurred to him, "Unobtanium is the most precious resource to man at this moment in time. There are still six Capital Star class ISV's inbound with their cargo, meaning that we have six years, roughly, of supply. We must begin now the process of both preparing to deal with at least a decade of no Unobtanium shipments as well as the matter of our return to Pandora."

Sitting to scattered applause, the representative from Uruguay rose, and began to speak, "I agree with the esteemed representative of the North American Union," his translator supplied, "We must keep the populace calm in these times. We have anti-matter reactors function in Europe, Russia, and South America. The incoming shipments will be enough to cover the North American and Luna reactors. We should increase the pace of the reclamation projects to keep people's spirits up."

The Secretary-General nodded to her, and then to Bordeaux, "Indeed. Expansion of the Siberian and Scandinavian reclamation projects should be our primary objective, as well as beginning the work on the Amazon project. In addition, pressure must be brought against the RDA to begin seriously looking at synthetically reproducing unobtanium. But, most importantly, we must begin planning our return to Pandora, and how we are going to resume mining in the face of this.. _native revolt_."

All right, here's the re-done prologue. Mostly minor changes but it looks and sounds a lot better (at least to me) now.

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**Author's Notation**

This is not going to be a "humans show up and curb-stomp the na'vi" kind of story. Nor is it "Humanity is perfect, na'vi aren't". I'm going to show humanity as we are, the good, the bad, the ugly. the noble and the savage, the idealist and the cynical, etc.

Even if you're a huge fan of the Na'vi, I think you can still enjoy my tale. Give it to the first few chapters at least and let me know what you think.

I'm going for realism as best I can, from my point of view.

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Well, there's the prologue. Not much I know, haven't even introduced the major characters yet but I wanted...well, needed to get a bit down to give myself more motivation to continue. The next chapter will probably focus on the UN's plans on returning and dealing with Selfridge and the Venture Star returning to Earth.

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome, flames not so much


	2. Chapter 1: Expositions, Expeditions

I do not own Avatar, as anyone whose brain is functioning should well know.

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**Chapter 1: Expositions, Expeditions**

**Date**: February 27th, 2161

**Location**: Tyuratam, Kazakhstan, Earth, Sol System

Parker Selfridge grimaced, clutching at the armrests of his seat with white knuckles as the shuttle bucked and quivered, descending rapidly through the atmosphere towards the world's oldest spaceport.

To say that this was not how he had intended to return to Earth would be a larger understatement than stating that the Na'vi hated technology. A few more years down the road, returning to a massive retirement package and maybe a resort home in northern California.. that was what he had always pictured whenever someone had brought up the subject of returning to Earth. Being _forced_ to go back, Hell's Gate overrun by savages and traitors, was something he had not even _dreamed_ to be a possibility.

Everything had been going so well...oh sure, the natives had never liked that they were there, but well, so what? The blue monkeys had learned quickly enough just how destructive humans could get, and so had generally avoided them. Which worked out really, because his mining teams preferred to not be impaled by giant arrows, leading to his teams working as far away from the natives as they could get.

The unstated rule of 'avoid each other, shoot at anyone too stupid to live' had worked out for more than a decade. It had worked through his entire predecessor's career, and through most of his own ten year tenure.

Then Grace fucking Augustine had gotten her Avatar, and everything changed. Oh sure, the old bat had been there for quite a while, nearly as long as Miles Quaritch had. But as soon as she could actually go out in to the jungle for long-term missions, as soon as she could actually talk to the natives without getting arrows shot at her, things.. started to become different.

At first, he had thought it was a god-send, and was ecstatic when the rest of the Avatars arrived on the next shipment. The natives were eager enough to learn English, which meant that soon they would actually be able to _negotiate _for once, figure out what the monkeys wanted. Roads, farms, medicine, hell, with the stereolithography plant, there was almost no limit as to what the humans could give them.

Then they attacked one of his dozers.

He had to admit, that had pissed him off. Augustine had been getting tense about the mining, true, but that had not prepared him or anyone else for the idea that the natives would actually try to assault them. Hell, they had _taught_ the stupid monkeys for nearly two years, offered them everything they could think of, and what did they get in return? Fucking attacked!

Shortly after that.. that was when he first realized that there were problems with the Avatar program. After the shootout, they had damn-near gone on strike in protest of what had happened, and it had taken a lot of convincing and arguing on his part to keep them working. It had been a few days later that Quaritch quietly brought to his attention just how different that Avatar team members looked from everyone else. Their skin pasty and pale, bodies appearing malnourished even to his eyes, shoulders slumped, eyes unfocused unless mention of their next mission was brought up.

It was like looking at addicts. And the arguments.. Jesus Christ, the arguments. They would fight with the miners or sec-ops personnel over _anything_. They had all forgotten _why_ they were on Pandora. They were _not_ there to learn how a bunch of savages wearing loincloths lived, the exact way they jumped from tree to tree.

Humans were on that moon for Unobtanium. Period. End of sentence, end of story. The science wing existed only for the purpose of quieting the greens and liberals who bitched that they needed to know more about the closest inhabitable world to Earth.

He sighed and closed his eyes, mind slowly running clips of the near decade he had been on the moon. The early years, when Augustine understood just how _dangerous_ the place was when you were human. When she and Quaritch could actually _agree_ on things. When she had seemed distressed when Sec-ops or his miners were attacked by some new and horrible creature.

When Jake Sully had arrived, he had hoped, hell, he had prayed to God seriously for the first time since he was a kid, that things would go back to that. That the marine turned Avatar would be able to quiet down the natives, that he and the other fresh geeks would be able to mellow Augustine out, and that they would be able to concentrate solely on mining once again.

Instead.. everything had gone batshit insane. Looking back at it.. he was not surprised that Quaritch had gone nuts at the end. The man had been there for a very, very long time, the last member of the old guard that had bled and died to hack Hell's Gate out of the jungle. He had hated the place with a passion so pure that it was holy, and had converted Sec-Ops and even his miners to his brand of furious faith.

_All we wanted to do was mine unobtanium, put in our years, and go home.. and instead.. every native animal on the planet goes nuts, the Avatar team betrays us, and we get booted out, sent home to get turned into scapegoats for the biggest disaster in decades.._

He glanced down at the small piece of paper that held the short, terse message that the _Venture Star _had received upon entering near-Earth orbit.

_From: ICA Command, Roma, Italia_

_To: ISV Venture Star_

_- Senior staff to land immediately at Baikonour Cosmodrome for full debrief by UN, ICA, RDA. _

The message was just as terrifying, if not more so, than the sight of the enraged natives, covered in warpaint, had been back on that death world.

His mind had already worked out some of the implications of the short sentence, and he did not care for what he thought it meant.

_We should be being greeted by RDA control out of San Francisco, not the ICA bureaucrats in Italy, which means that the United Nations stripped the RDA of their aerospace control rights. That the RDA was mentioned last... means that they are going to be the least important persons there._ All of that meant that he was going to be in a very difficult position in the near future. His only real defense lay in two parts: Firstly, he had been acting in the best interests of the company, and Secondly, that the final chaos was caused by Quaritch, without his approval.

The first was a terrible defense, and he knew it. 'I was acting in the company's best interests' was far too close to 'I was only following orders', and just uttering those words could be enough to screw him over completely in any court on the planet.

_Assuming they even bother to send you to a court, _a nasty little voice whispered in his inner ear.

Parker grimaced again, feeling his face pale and rather hoping that no one around him noticed. Fortunately, it seemed that everyone else in the shuttle were suffering from just as dark and gloomy moods as he himself was, all staring at their own feet, faces and hands pale, or else simply gazing into space at nothing.

Shortly after he elected to join the 'stare into space' group, and far too soon for his liking, the shuttle's engines changed in pitch, the massive vehicle seeming to sway slightly as the vertical engines were engaged for the final approach and landing.

The pilots, who were apparently just as worried over their own future as everyone else, did not even bother to announce when they landed, choosing instead to simply flash the warning lights and to open the cargo bay door.

Fighting to stay calm, he settled his exopack onto his face, unbuckling himself as he did so.

Rising, he turned, sighting the small group of well dressed people already purposefully striding towards the landed vehicle, and fought to keep the fear off of his face.

_All right.._ Parker blew out his breath, _Get over it, it was NOT your fault, you KNOW that, all you have to do is explain it to them._

Nodding to himself, steeling his spine, he slowly made his way down the ramp, other members of his mining staff and the few surviving Sec-Ops officers cautiously following him.

"Mr. Selfridge," a middle aged man greeted, his upper-class British accent making him seem even more distinguished than his expensive suit already indicated, "We have been expecting you."

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**Date**: February 28th, 2161

**Location**: Roma, Italia, Earth, Sol System

He reclined as best he could in the excruciatingly delightful comfort of the leather chair, glancing about the small conference room as he did so. There was not much to see really, it was like any others of its kind. Plain dry-wall, the fluorescent lights on the cheap ceiling, a table that might have been bought from a department store.

Raising the cheap, ceramic cup to his lips, he carefully sipped the real coffee that he had been given, trying not to show just how good it tasted after so many years of making do with instant copycats that were no where near as good as the real thing.

_And it's also much better at keeping one awake_, he thought grumpily. After landing, they had bundled him off onto a train, which had raced to Moscow. Not even bothering to answer his questions, they had made their way onto another train, this one to Rome, dragging him along with. Upon arriving, he was told tersely not to answer any questions that any media members asked him, and was then driven to the ICA facility.

After having to push and shove their way through the massive crowd, they had led him to the room, offered him coffee and donuts, and then waited patiently for him to finish. The two women whom he thought represented the ICA and RDA remained silent, ignoring any attempt at conversation, and he realized that his fate was entirely in the hands of the UN investigator.

The British man, who had introduced himself as Matthew Wallace, smiled easily as he sipped from his own cup, before leaning back in his own chair, arms resting comfortably upon their rests, "Now, Mr. Selfridge we have a great many questions to ask you, as I am sure that you are aware. The message you sent before you left Pandora caused quite a stir here you know."

Parker sighed and nodded, dragging his mind away from the excellent taste and to the matters at hand, "Yes, I know." he decided to pre-empt what he felt would be asked, "As I am sure that you are aware, our relationship with the natives was always.. tense." He began to explain, in great detail, what had happened over his tour on the world.

Maybe half-way through, he began to really warm to his theme, detailing exactly how Augustine, Quaritch, and Sully had acted over the last, fateful, six months. The increasing numbers of attacks on the Hell trucks, the increasing tension amongst the Sec-Ops personnel, and the increasing distance between the Avatar team and everyone else.

Wallace would occasionally ask questions, seeking additional detail about one point, or for a reiteration of something else, but largely he allowed Parker to vent nearly eight years of frustration.

When he had finished describing the battle, as he had experienced it, and the aftermath and exile that had followed, the Investigator led his head fall back onto the top of the chair, sighing.

"So.. the fate of humanity may be to be brought low by a crippled jarhead who turned native. How... lovely."

He gave the other man a smile that was more pained grimace than anything resembling an actual smile, "Tell me about it. The last few days there... were pretty insane. Natives everywhere, taking away any guns we had, the Avatars herding us around, screaming at any Sec-Ops people they recognized or knew.. Sully telling us never to return."

"Ah yes, the Avatar team." Wallace nodded, sitting fully upright once more, "So, it would be your recommendation to _not_ restart the Avatar program when we return?"

Parker blinked at the change of conversation, and tried to clamp down on the sudden excitement that had risen within him. "Yes, oh definitely yes, they were the ones who really brought down our entire operation. We might have been able to hold out at least until the next ISV arrived if they hadn't stormed the Ops-Center and brought down the perimeter defenses."

"How would you characterize them? Why do you think that they betrayed their species?" the British man pressed.

"It was... gradual." he replied after a moment of thought, "But they changed. By the end, I don't even think they considered themselves humans anymore. They thought of themselves as natives stuck in human bodies. It was..." he sought the right words, "Like watching an addict get hooked to a drug. They started to care more about their fake bodies than their real ones, spent all their time in the links, fought with anyone not in their department over any little thing."

He began speak faster, becoming almost giddy as he dared to hope that it wasn't going to be him that was offered up as the reason that the mining had failed, "And even beyond that, they failed at every objective they were given. They were _supposed_ to act as our diplomats, help us get what we needed while avoiding bloodshed. Instead, all we got from them was 'Don't do that, you'll piss them off. Don't that either. Or that. On second thought, stop mining altogether so we can learn how to swing through the trees just like them.' They never seemed to _understand_ why we were there. They-"

His mouth stopped abruptly, something that Wallace had said much earlier only now reaching his brain, "Wait, _return_? It's already planned?"

"Naturally. As you said, unobtanium was the only reason that we were there, and it is the only reason to go back." Wallace leaned forwards, placing his hands together, "Things here at home are.. difficult. Much of the planet is still deeply scarred from the Third World War, and the reclamation projects are entirely reliant upon anti-matter reactors to provide the power necessary to both power the reclamation as well as the cities were far too many people are now crowded "

One of the women, the one from the ICA, finally spoke, "More than that, we need unobtanium for additional ISV's. Signals from our probes in the Epsilon Eridani system have finally gotten here, and they indicate at least two habitable worlds. It is not an ideal solution," she rolled a shoulder, "But we are not spoiled for choice as the moment. Colonial ISV's are on the drawing boards, and we hope to be able to start shuttling large amounts of colonists to that system within a few decades. It won't alleviate the pressure of overpopulation, but it will provide hope, which is badly needed for far too many right now. But in order to do all of that.." her voice trailed off.

"You need unobtanium. Lots of it." he supplied, nodding slowly.

She nodded, "We are already building four new ISV's using existing, man-made superconductors, and we have reactivated the old _Explorer_ class, but it is simply too costly to continue building, and maintaining, that type of ship indefinitely."

"And this crisis could not have come at a worse time." Wallace picked up, and Parker shifted his focus, "The American, both North and South, reactors are largely in place, as are the European and North African ones. But Asia, Australia, the rest of Africa do not have them. Jealousy is going to grow as the reclamation projects continue, and there are already fears of yet more resource wars."

"This is all very fascinating, but why are you telling me?" he asked archly, starting to get irritated with how long the 'debriefing' was taking.

Wallace gave him a tight smile, "Because you need to know the reason you are being sent back."

His mind screeched to a halt, the bottom falling out of his stomach, "No. Not just no, _Hell No!_"

"Your options are as follows, go back and head the mining operation, or stay here and accept your due share of the blame alongside Sully, Augustine, and Quaritch."

His fingers curled into the leather arms of the chair, and he furiously thought over his options.

"God damn you." he whispered after a few moments of rapid thought hammered home his very real lack of options. "God damn you to hell."

"Very good." Wallace smiled pleasantly, ignoring the venomous glare he was being given, "Now, I have other members of your staff to debrief and.. 'convince' to return as well. The lovely Ms. Tamina from your very own RDA will go over what will be happening over the next few days, and she will send you where you need to go. You seem to be a very intelligent man Mr Selfridge, I hope to see you soon."

With that Wallace rose, breezing easily out of the room, the ICA woman following him.

And that left him alone with Tamina, and it was she who blew out a breath and snarled, "Finally," before striding into the chair Wallace had vacated and sitting.

"Let me guess, press conference?" he asked, voice still terse and annoyed.

"Yes." the woman nodded, "And it will probably be a vicious one, as well being the first of many."

He glared at her, "Am I going to get any kind of break, or am I just a performing monkey?"

"A monkey." There was no humor in her tone, "The fallout, both against the RDA as well as against you, must be controlled. The United Nations may be taking the long-term view of what is going on, but you can bet your ass that most of the liberal crowd is going to flip out over 'slaughtering the natives'."

"They attacked us first!" he snapped, "Why don't _they_ go, huh? See how easy it is to survive on that death-planet."

A twitch of a smile graced her lips, "Not a bad idea. Unfortunately we cannot do so, and must divert and appease them. The truth will not do much for that, and our lies must be kept simple. Tell me, the first major incident with the dozer and the school-house, were any sec-ops personnel or miners killed?"

"No, the dozer was automated and th-"

She cut him off smoothly, "Records will show that the dozer was manually operated, the pilot was burned alive, and the natives killed two brave Sec-Ops men who attempted to put out the fires. Did you or Quaritch know that the dozers were going to demolish those 'sacred trees' while en route?"

"I didn't. Quaritch probably did, he was getting _extremely_ pissed over what was happening." he raised a hand to stop her interruption before she could start, "Quaritch did _not_ know, and it was entirely Augustine's fault for failing to give us that information."

She actually _did_ smile this time, "You are quick indeed, now, let us continue, we have much to go over, and we have to make sure that this press conference goes perfectly before you are sent to Germany."

He blinked slowly, "Germany?"

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**Date**: March 1st, 2161

**Location**: Kiel, Deutschland, Earth, Sol System

The migraine was getting annoying. Doubly so because he had been putting up with it, on and off, for several days now. It had started just before the first press conference, continued unabated during that multi-hour, extremely aggravating, time period, and slowly crept back up even as he was shipped by high-speed rail north the German port city he now found himself in.

He had, at least, been able to meet with several of his old staff, all of whom had similar stories to his own. Debriefed in a hurry, then bullied, bribed, or blackmailed into signing up for the new expedition. A few had manged to get some snippets of what had happened during their six year transit at least, and had quickly shared with everyone else.

Most of it fit with what he and the others already knew or had guessed. The en route ISV's had been recalled, and the entire ISV fleet had been removed from RDA control and given over to the ICA, which in turn, had massively expanded and become a full organization within the UN. As time passed, and numerous investigations launched, many of the company's.. .less than savory secrets had come to light, and its powers, and those of the other mega-corporations, had been curbed heavily by the resurgent national governments.

Now he was stuck in yet another conference room, glancing around at the unfamiliar faces that were apparently the 'senior staff' of the new expedition.

The man at the head of the table finished reading whatever was on his tablet before rising, and nodding to everyone. He looked as though he was in the prime of his life, bits of silver only just gracing his dark hair, and his green eyes were piercing. The man paced as he spoke, looking from face to face as he did so.

"I am _Oberst_ Eric Weigand." his accented voice commanded their attention, even though he had spoken rather quietly, "And I have been placed in charge of our expeditionary force. Now, most of us know each other, and have done preliminary planning, but for _Herr_ Selfrigde's sake, I shall conduct a round of introductions."

He nodded to the thin, calm man closest to him, "_Hauptmann_ Jones and his company of American Engineers will be in charge of base defenses and work with _Herr _Seflridge's men in the construction of our base. _Hauptmann _Adler," a man who could have been the poster child for Aryan perfection, "will command our air assets, and _Hauptmann _Kozlov," a bear of a man who dwarfed everyone else at the table, "and his Russian company will defend our mining operations."

The _Oberst_ gestured with a hand at an old, ebony skinned man and the coldly beautiful blond behind him, "_Kommodore_ Bradley will command our Interstellar vehicles, with _Kapitaen _Thomes acting as his second. She will be in command of the ISV _Explorer's Dream_, which will be placed above our new colony at all times to provide surveillance and control."

Weigand nodded towards a wall, tapping his tablet as he did so, bringing up a projected image of everything that was apparently going to be going with. "All told we shall have three hundred and thirty two military personnel, and a planned four hundred civilian miners and engineers. The military forces as well as all of our mining and construction equipment will be carried aboard the _Capital Star, Jovian Storm, Luna's Rise, _and _Supernova_. The civilians will be aboard the _Emerald Skies_ and _Ever Onwards. _The _Explorer's Dream_ will be loaded down with satellites and an additional pair of Valkyrie shuttles, as well as an additional series of habitation modules, including a fully stocked hospital section."

Parker raised a hand, and the _Oberst_ nodded to him, "So I'm guessing that you're in overall command then?"

"_Ja._" the Colonel, he thought the rank was equivalent anyway, nodded, "You will be in command of our civilians, sans the ISV crewmen, but I will have overall command of the expedition."

He bit his lip then nodded, _Not being in charge means that there is much less that can be pointed at me if something goes wrong. Again. _"I can live with that, when do we leave?"

"Not for quite some time. Modifications to the _Explorer's Dream_ will take a great deal time, and I want all of my personnel to be drilled to the highest level of readiness possible. In addition, you will need to work with _Hauptmann_ Jones on the design of our future home."

"It will have to be from scratch. Given how fast plants grow there, Hell's Gate will be overrun long before we return, and we'll be lucky to even find what is left of our mobile sites."

Weigand shrugged, "Take what time you need to plan and design _mein herr_, for when we return, we must be sure that everything is as ready as is humanly possible, so that what happened before cannot happen again."

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**Next is Chapter 2: Joyless Nights**


	3. Chapter 2: Joyless Nights

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

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**Chapter 2: Joyless Nights**

**Date**: December 24th, 2156

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

The two scientists gazed stoically into the Pandoran night from the darkened Ops-Center. Both were slowly sipping from the glasses that contained smooth scotch, liberated from Selfridge's private stores. Only a few, flickering monitors still illuminated the room, the soft colors of their lights seeming to enhance the darkness, rather than banishing it.

Max Patel, Doctor, sighed quietly as he reached for the bottle, slowly refilling his cup.

"Might as well put a dent in it, and besides, Christmas Eve is as good a time as any, right?" Norm had said, a brittle smile on his usually cheerful face.

Smiling his own bitter little smile, Max slowly took another sip. There were times that it was hard to believe that it had been two years since the _Venture Star_ had left. And there were times.. when it was painful to think about.

That was not to say that he regretted it, oh no, he certainly did not, not even for a nanosecond. Quaritch and Selfridge had _needed_ standing up to, and the Na'vi had more than needed their help to stop them. But... sometimes.. sometimes he was reminded just how alone they had become. How, just a few light years away, billions of members of humanity were sleeping, preparing to wake up rested, ready to celebrate joyous life the next day, despite all of the problems within their lives.

That.. was when it became painful.

"I talked with Jake the other day." Norm's steady voice broke him from his reverie, "He and the _Omaticaya_ are settling in well to the new _kelutral. _Said he and the other Avatars would come by sometime next week to help us patch up the cracks in the reactor building."

He gave a small, far less bitter smile, and nodded slightly, "That's good, on both counts. How are the Avatars doing? Settling in better to the tribal life? Any lingering effects from passing through the Eye of Eywa?"

His slender friend shrugged, "He didn't mention anything, so I think everything is going good."

"Always good to hear. It'll be nice to see them again, it has been getting a bit quiet around here, with just the eight of us." That was an understatement and he knew it. Eight people were inhabiting a base meant to house several hundred. They rarely left the science wing for the simple reason that Hell's Gate had become a literal ghost town, with all of the creepy solitude that was implied.

"Yeah." Norm replied, after a moments pause.

The two sat in a companionable silence for some time, simply gazing through the glass at the forest, so much closer to the fencing now than it had been just those two years ago. They slowly sipped their scotch, watching the tree tops moving slowly with the wind. Behind them, a computer screen flickered from its stand-by blue to a deep warning red for a few moments, before winking out entirely. Neither paid it any attention.

"Hey Max?" Norm was again the one to break the silence.

He frowned at his friend's very quiet, almost small, tone, "What is it Norm?"

"How long.. how long do you think Hell's Gate will last?"

Lifting his glass, he took another slow sip of the smooth beverage before he answered, "Hard to say. Given how quickly the jungle is already advancing into the old kill zone.. I would guess it will probably be totally over-run in two decades, and unrecognizable in about twice that."

Norm gave him a brittle smile, "Not what I meant."

"Oh." he sighed, glancing down into his glass. He had always been the cautious one, the practical one. Making sure that everyone knew what was going on, what they were getting into, making sure they were prepared for any situation that could come up. Such readiness of mind had a downside, a rather massive one, as he was now learning. It was hard to find hope.. any hope at all, in a situation, when you _knew_ exactly what you had, how long it would last you, and what you would have to do to have any chance to survive.

"Maybe a year." he answered finally, "Two at the very most. We don't have the deuterium to keep the fusion reactor going any longer than that. And that's assuming we can keep it repaired and functioning. We'll have to relocate to a mobile site, probably Sixteen, since it is the closest to the _Omaticaya_. That's going to have all of its own problems. No more greenhouse, we'll have a lot less computing power..."

"Won't have the automatic turrets to keep us safe." Norm said quietly.

"That too." He sighed, "And the Na'vi probably won't be thrilled about it, despite what Jake and the other Avatars might say. We'll probably be dependent on them for food by that time, we'll have to try our hand at hunting and trapping, maybe try and start a small farm. We'll have to keep at least something here working though, the mobile sites aren't hardened, and the yearly radiation storms will kill us unless we manage to get back here for the two weeks."

His glass flipped back, as he took a much longer, faster drink, letting it burn down his throat, freeing up his voice to let go of what had been stuck within his mind for nearly the entire two years, "If we are lucky.. if we are really, _really_ lucky, we might all make it the decade until the soonest ISV arrives from Earth. But.. we probably all won't make it. And even if any of us do, who is going to be showing up? The RDA again? The UN? A regional power like the EU or NAU? Hell, are they even going to come back at all?"

A quick shake of his head came as he tried to dispel the depression that had risen, and he polished off what was left in his cup, "But you know what..in the end, we did what was right, and that's enough for me, even if it means that I'll never go home again."

Norm smiled slightly, looking into his own cup after taking another sip, "That sounds good to me. I just wish... I just wish that Jake understood. I mean.. I know that he's preoccupied with being the new _Olo'eyktan_, and with Neytiri expecting. But.. we talk less and less these days. Neytiri doesn't mind stopping by once and a while, but the rest of the clan.."

"To them we're just _tawtute_, just more idiot sky people." Max supplied, nodding. "Even though we helped them in the fight, helped them find their new home, we don't have Avatars. We're not _Uniltirantokx. _When they look at us.. all they see is the same aliens that burned down their ancestral home and attacked their most sacred site. They see you not as the person whose Avatar died fighting beside them, but just as another human, bumbling around."

His friend glanced at him and shrugged his shoulders in a self-deprecating fashion, "I know it's stupid, still wanting to be one of them, to be able to help them like Grace and Jake did. But Jake.. he's found where he belongs. And I'm sure Grace is content with Eywa, way more than she would have ever been wherever human spirits go. I just wish that we could have had that.. that happily ever after that they have.."

Max sighed and got up, shuffling slowly into the Administrator's former office and grabbing a new pair of bottles. Opening both, he shuffled back and simply handed Norm an entire bottle, keeping the other for himself and taking a short swig.

"Two years.. then we'll have to see if Jake will still support us.. or if he'll stand by the tribe, who will probably want nothing to do with us." Norm's voice was utterly quiet. "Wish I knew what he'll do.."

He sighed very heavily, and took a much longer pull from the bottle.

"I don't know Norm." he whispered softly.

Behind them, a clock softly chimed midnight, even as the last functioning monitor in the room flickered over to red, before flashing off entirely, leaving them in total darkness.

The two touched their bottles together softly, murmured "Merry Christmas", and resumed gazing into the jungle, trying to see beyond the trees, towards the place that contained all of their hopes and dreams, the place that they only wished the best for.. yet was also a place that would never accept them, simply for being what they were.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 3: Wolves, Jackals, Oh My**


	4. Chapter 3: Wolves, Jackals, Oh My

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Wolves, Jackals, Oh My**

**Date**: September 5th, 2162

**Location**: Roma, Italia, Earth, Sol System

_Time seems to flow faster on Earth than it had on Pandora_, Parker mused. Here, a year had already flown past in what had seemed like mere days to him, whereas there, everyday had dragged on, never seeming to end.

_Probably because they're working me like a maniac,_ he thought grumpily.

He had been flown from one military base to another, being forced to watch the training exercises, then been sent out to Luna to meet with the RDA board and go over, again, exactly what had happened on Pandora, before _then _being sent to one of the massive mines on the lunar surface to go over exactly what equipment would be needed on the first expedition.

He massaged his temples, attempting to will away the migraine that had become his constant companion. After three months of endless meetings and arguments on Luna, he had been dragged back to yet even more countless meetings with Jones, going over dozens of potential base locations, made more difficult because the powers that be insisted it be near Hell's Gate, so that metal and resources could be salvaged from both the base and the mine.

And now, he was stuck watching a news bulletin going on about the "truth" that had recently come to light about what had happened on Pandora, his only companion being the _Oberst, _Weigand.

"...word has recently come to light about the atrocities that occurred on Pandora, prior to the eviction of the Research and Development Association from their mining colony there. Painted as acts of aggression by the natives, known as the Na'vi, recent evidence has to come to light that it _may in fact_ been acts of aggression by the RDA that led to the exile!" the reporter exclaimed, she was obviously having the time of her life, being on a story this huge would keep her famous for months, if not years.

"_Ruhig._" Weigand spoke, and the television immediately quieted, the German sighed and leaned back in his chair. "We had hoped that we would be able to jam any transmissions coming from Pandora, seems were weren't quite successful. That, or someone on the communications team leaked this to the press."

Parker glared at him, "Would have been nice to keep me in the loop. All you had to say was 'Hey Parker, we think the tree-hugging hippies sent a message back, so be prepared in case it goes public.' _Now_ what the hell are we going to do about this?"

"Us?" Weigand shrugged, "Nothing, overall. That's for our media moguls to handle. You might get called up to another press conference or two, but we've spent the last year laying the foundation of blame directly at Augustine and Sully."

"But what did the transmission _say?_" he snapped, "What and how they said it could wind up being very bad for both me and the company, not to mention this expedition."

Weigand eyed him, the leaned forwards, resting his hands together. "Five years ago, I was asked by a member of the green movement how I could possibly go to Pandora to be in charge of a mining operation. That it was obviously an affront to all of nature to destroy so much for mere dollars, and that the human race wold never stand for such evil. He pointed to the protest movements going on across the world, the support for the reclamation projects, things like that."

He paused to drink a small sip of water from the bottle on the table, "And I responded 'Good sir, if those protests were any indication of popular opinion, we would not go back. But as it is, you are talking of the dissent of but a few thousand, perhaps a few million, in a world of billions. The majority of humanity does not view this world as a hell as you do, they are quite content here. If they were not, this world would not be this way, _ja_? An American president, from before the North American Union, once called upon the Silent Majority to support him, and that is what we have done here. You may complain loudly over what may happen, but in the end, you are but one voice compared to the billions who believe that Unobtanium will save this Earth.'"

Parker blinked at him as he continued, "And the man simply stared at me, and I turned and walked away. I do not believe that most people will believe what your Avatar team has said, after all,who is to be believed in the end, people five light years away who cannot defend themselves nor debate their points, or those humans right here, who have told horror stories of the death world they so bravely faced to save this Earth?"

"I never thought of it like that," he admitted.

Weigand smiled, "Few do. No, we will do little against this, save to appear calm. No blistering retorts or massive rebuttals, just a quiet campaign of reminding the people that in the end, humans died, and our best hope to save this planet was stymied by the acts of a few who believed an alien race was worth more to them than their fellow _homo sapiens_."

"Ah." Parker nodded, something clicking in his mind, "That's one of the reasons for the delay before we leave isn't it? It makes sense now. The public's attention span has always been short, you're giving them a chance to cool down from things like this before we leave. Give them time to realize just how much their wallets are hurting, how slowly the reclamation projects are moving."

"Exactly. Now come." the colonel rose, "We have a meeting with the ICA to get to."

* * *

**Date**: December 12th, 2161

**Location**: Beweglichkeitsrüstungsysteme training base, Essen, Deutschland, Earth, Sol System

The noise was, as always when AMP suits were involved, incredible. Even from his spot several hundred meters away, Parker could still hear the roar of AMP suit cannons, the softer chatter of assault rifles, as he watched the training exercise. The massive German-built AMP suits provided covering fire from behind simulated trees as infantrymen rushed from cover to cover, their own weapons firing in short, controlled bursts down-range.

"As you can plainly see, our new armored suits are far indeed superior to the Mitsubishi model used previously on Pandora." the elderly German CEO of an arms corporation whose name Parker couldn't even begin to pronounce was next to him, gesturing at the AMPs as he spoke. "We built them with the specifications your team requested, much heavier armor over the leg and cockpit regions, more advanced gyro systems to help with balance. We sub-contracted the weapon design to an American firm, and we should be getting their prototypes within the next month. If my memory serves, they've chosen a 20mm design to replace the old GAU-90 30mm weapon." he continued on in that vain for several more minutes, Parker all but tuning him out as he watched.

He did snap back to reality when the cost was mentioned however, "The United Nations Security Council will be fronting the bill." he interrupted, "As such, cost holds little issue. As long as the reliability is everything you've said it is."

"They will function in any environment with minimal troubles" the old man assured him, "We've tested the prototypes in what's left of the Brazilian jungle, Antarctica, Luna, as well as the reclamation zone in Sweden."

Parker nodded, "Good. Now if you'll excuse me." he turned and began to make his way back inside, tearing off his exopack as soon as he was through the doors. The air had improved in cleanliness while he was gone, but it was still far better to wear one that it was to go without. He walked briskly through the base, making his way to the office he had manged to claim for the duration of his stay here.

Opening the door, his mind was already occupied with the budget report that the RDA chairman had requested concerning the mining equipment, and how much the UN would be willing to front, when he stopped short, the chair in his office was already occupied, and not by someone he particularly wanted to see.

"Good to see you again Mr. Selfridge." Matthew Wallace smiled at him.

Parker glared at him. "The feeling isn't mutual. What do you want with me this time?"

The British investigator held a hand over his heart, "You wound me sir, surely it is not too much to expect that I was merely dropping by to see how our dear administrator was doing?"

"Yes." he snapped. "I've been non-stop working for over a year now to go back to a planet that I just got back from after being kicked off by a bunch of damned blue monkeys. The RDA is screaming bloody murder at the budget requests, the ICA is dragging its feet in providing compensation for the ISV fleet, and the only one who seems to actually be willing to work with me is Weigand."

Wallace's smile faded. "I do not bring news on the budgetary situation I'm afraid, I am here to take you to Geneva for a press conference, concerning the transmission that was leaked to the media several months ago."

"That!" he shook his head, "I_ already_ consented to an interview, and getting prodded for three hours by reporters trying to trip me up was unpleasant enough the first time. I acted in the company's and in humanity's best interests dammit, it was _not my fault!_" his voice had risen to a shout by the end of his little tirade.

"Be glad that the United Nations agrees with you," Wallace spoke in a calming tone, "But before you continue shouting I would like you to know that once the press conference is complete, _Oberst_ Weigand has assigned you two weeks leave at a resort in Helsinki."

Parker, who had been quite ready to continue on his rant, drew up short. "Leave? Helsinki?" The Finnish capital had become one of the top tourist destinations in recent decades, the carefully maintained forest around it led to resort homes within being rented out for millions of dollars every year.

"Yes. Helsinki, fully paid for by the UN in recognition of all of the hard work you've done. Now, if you're quite finished, we have a train to catch. All of your possessions will meet you in Finland, so there is no need to pack."

* * *

**Date**: December 13th, 2161

**Location**: United Nations Press Hall, Geneva, Switzerland, Earth, Sol System

"So what you are saying is that the message from the Avatar team and the Na'vi on Pandora was incorrect in its information, that it was truly their fault? And that they did so in an attempt to prevent us from returning?" a male reporter asked pointedly.

Parker sighed, _I really hate press conferences, these reporters are like rabid dogs, they don't care what's right or who is at fault, only that they get a story._ "As I've said before," he spoke aloud, struggling to keep his voice even, "There is no one thing that can be pointed to as the action that led to the circumstances on Pandora. There is no one person at fault, no one situation to blame. It was a sequence of failures of communication on the part of the Avatar team, a failure of diplomacy on the part of Jake Sully, and overzealous protection of human lives on the part of the late Colonel Miles Quaritch. These sequences built off of each other, resulting in the battle that culminated in the attack on Hell's Gate by the native forces."

A female reporter leaped to her feet and he nodded in her direction, "Could you please define the 'overzealous protection of human lives' for us please?"

"After the attack on our mining team that resulted in their deaths, Quaritch believed that the only way to ensure the safety of our miners and security personnel was to remove the Na'vi from the area. However, the Avatars sent in to negotiate were instead captured and held hostage, and hostilities broke out at the Na'vi hometree when the Colonel attempted to rescue them." he continued, shamelessly blending the truth with lies,_ Keep them focused on Quaritch and Sully, not on you or the company!_ he thought furiously as he continued, "Attempts to use tear gas and warning rounds to drive the Na'v away failed and they attacked, the Colonel was forced to use deadly force and in the ensuing battle the Na'vi hometree was destroyed after it caught fire. After-"

The reporter interrupted him, "But according to the Avatar team's message, the tree was destroyed not for that reason, but because of the large quantity of unobtanium beneath it, and that the Na'vi attack on the dozers was merely an excuse! Is this true?"

He snorted mentally, _As if I would say yes, that is true, _"No, definitely not. The Avatar team, though filled with good people, constantly made mistaken assumptions about what was occurring at the complex. I believe this was because they began to care far more about the natives than about their fellow humans. There _was_ a massive load of unobtanium under their hometree, that is true, however the load spread out fairly far in every direction, and the dozers were en-route to begin a small mine at a point as far from their tree as possible."

An Japanese reporter stood up this time, reading from his notepad, "So the Avatar team was being kept in the dark about what was truly happening? Does this not strike you as a bad management practice?"

"They were not being kept in the dark," he asserted, leaning forwards to project both confidence and defiance at the suggestion, "They simply did not care, they didn't read the official bulletins, didn't socialize outside of their circle, and I am offended that you immediately assume the worst about the people who were doing everything they could to help humanity."

At this, Wallace leaned forwards and spoke into his own microphone, "All of this has been discussed before, and is available in the public report made by Administrator Selfridge and the other survivors of Hell's Gate made over a year ago. If there are no new questions pertaining to either the future expedition or the assertions made by the Avatar team, then this press conference is over." He gestured at Parker, "Mr. Selfridge has been working non-stop for over a year now, with no breaks or vacations to aid us in returning to Pandora to resume the flow of unobtanium to aid in saving our world, and I would appreciate it if you all would respect that fact."

Parker blinked a bit. _Holy hell, they've been working me non-stop for over a year just to throw it at the media's face!_ His estimation of Wallace's ability to manipulate both the people and situation around him went up several notches.

The reporters, glancing uncertainly at one another, slowly began to rise to their feet and shuffle out.

Wallace turned off the mics and turned to him, beaming, "There, that wasn't so bad now was it? Now let's get out of here before they try and see through our smokescreen once more."

Parker rose, a bit shakily, and turned to follow him. _Helsinki and two weeks of relaxation, here I come._

He'd earned it dammit.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 4: Hurting Homes**

And there is chapter 3. This is probably going to be my target length for most of my Selfridge oriented chapters.

Reviews:

Robby Cartwight: Answer to your question in the next chapter, when we're back to Max's POV.

Beliskner01: Probably not. The story as I have it envisioned so far is going to bounce between Selfridge and Patel, I want to show the Na'vi from an entirely human angle.


	5. Chapter 4: Hurting Homes

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Hurting Homes**

**Date**: April 27th, 2158

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

Max Patel gazed at the base from his seat in the last functioning Samson. There was not nearly as much to see as there had been just a few years ago. Without the nearly constant acid sprays and clear cutting, the forest had encroached rapidly into what had once been a bastion of human technology amongst a world of nature.

Eywa was taking her revenge with interest it seemed. The Avatar training grounds were now indistinguishable from the forest around them, the unobtanium refinery had collapsed in on itself last year, the pipe system and buildings unable to support themselves with the additional weight of trees and vines.

Only the massive armor vault remained clear of the native fauna, its massively thick walls and magnetically sealed doors standing fast against the rising tide of life around it.

Max nodded to Norm, pointing at the vault, "Assuming the seals hold we should be able to use the armor vault as a shelter against the radiation storms every year, we won't have power while we're there, but it should only be for a week or so."

Norm nodded and shouted back over the noise of the rotors, "Yeah. They definitely built that brick to last. Ironic that it's going to save us."

The other three avatar team members in the Samson chuckled along with them as the Samson slowly banked away from the remains of the facility, heading deeper into the jungle.

Max smiled and leaned back. It was good to have something to smile about, even if it was nothing more than minor jab at their former-employer's expense. The last several months of negotiation with Jake had been tense. The Na'vi had not been thrilled at all to hear that the _tawtute_ couldn't stay in their metal home anymore, and it had been clear to Max that they'd never even thought about the amount of work required simply to _maintain_ the entire base. Hell, he hadd barely considered it himself until after the fight.

But as it was... as it was most of the tribe did _not_ want sky people to be living among them.

Cindy spoke up from her place next to him, her quiet voice hard to hear over the noise, "I still can't believe that Jake shot us down."

"He's not a dictator," Norm responded from his place across from her, his voice just as despondent, "The tribe didn't want us there, he can't make them accept us. That he managed to convince them to let us live at the edge of their territory is a minor miracle in itself."

Max chimed in, "And at least he and the other Avatars are going to help us with getting food, when they can."

"When they can," she replied, sarcasm lightly coloring her voice, "Jake wasn't thrilled about the idea either remember."

The cabin went quiet as everyone glanced away from each other. Jake had not been thrilled about the idea of dropping a pair of mobile site units next to the home tree either. He had been more than happy to offer to help them set up and to bring them what excess food he could, but it been painfully obvious that he did not really want them to be living next to the people.

Max remembered Jake taking him aside after the meeting in which they'd come to the agreement, "Max.. I'm one of the people now." His English was slow, paced, it was obvious he had not spoken it in months. "You and Norm and the rest are my friends, and always will be, but you can't just drop mobile bases and live amongst us, our ways of life are just too different from one another. You need that technology to survive here, but the people won't accept it."

He had turned aside, gazing at the home tree, watching his young son run, Neytiri chasing him, before breaking into a smile, "I know you love both technology and nature Max, but for the people.. for me, only nature is beautiful." He had strode off, picking up his son to squeals of laughter and heading into the tree for dinner.

"I don't love technology Jake," he had murmured after the _Olo'eyktan_ had left, "But I know that I need it to live here, and you used to know that."

The Samson banking down broke him from his reverie, angling down for a landing next to their new home. They had managed to drag pieces from two other mobile sites to location 17, and had angled them in a U shape, with a clearing for the Samson to land in the middle. He could see Jordan and Alice carefully tilling the ground next to one of the shacks in preparation for planting, and a trio of Avatars waved at him, a pair of dead Tapirus at their feat.

He sighed and dismounted from the Samson, walking into their new home.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 5: Here, there be Dragons**

And another Max pov chapter. Less discussion in this one, mostly a moving chapter. Expect more philosophy in his next outing.

**Review bitte schoen. **


	6. Chapter 5: Here, There Be Dragons

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Here, there be dragons**

**Date**: January 30th, 2163

**Location**: Toronto, North American Union, Earth, Sol System

It had been weeks since his impromptu vacation in Finland, and Parker was still relaxed. He hadn't even had a migraine since. So he was in a congenial mood when he was brought to Toronto to watch the Canada vs. Germany football match with _Oberst _Weigand.

It was _supposed_ to be a meeting concerning first the base design, then going over the final construction decisions of the _Explorer's _Dream. Not that the good colonel had much to say, he was entirely absorbed in the game, which left Parker free to go over some of the possible base plans that Captain Jones had sent him. All were far more practical from a defensive standpoint than Hell's Gate had been, featuring heavy concrete bunkers instead of defensive towers, and secondary defensive positions built into the majority of the buildings. He made notes on numerous, pointing out flaws in the location of the unobtanium refinery in one, in the location of the administration dorms in the other.

"_GOTT IM HIMMEL!" _Parker glanced up, the rise of red and white on the other side of the field revealing that Canada had just scored without him even needing to check further. The Germanic colonel had leaped to his feat and was shouting what were most likely uncouth terms at his country's team. Ignoring him, he made a small note next to one of the base designs concerning the placement of the greenhouse.

A few minutes later he rose and stretched, slowly meandering over to the window to stand beside Weigand, glancing at the score as he did so. "Two to nothing eh, in the first half even."

The older man glared at him, before turning sharply away from the pitch. "Come on," his voice was gruff, "I cannot bear to watch another minute."

Smirking, Parker followed him back to the table, outlining what he had done thus far.

"Good." Weigand replied when he had finished, "Send those to Jones as soon as is possible, the ICA rep will be here shortly, and we can then go over-"

A tide of noise interrupted him and before Parker could blink he had leaped over to the window, gazing intently at the scoreboard, before his shoulders slumped and he shuffled back, his voice and posture now noticeably depressed "What was I saying... Oh. Yes. We can then go over the final design of the _Explorer's Dream_."

Parker nodded, "That is good."

The two sat in silence for many more minutes, Parker diligently working on commenting the base designs while Weigand visibly forced himself not to watch the train wreck in progress outside, instead going over Parker's previous work.

The ICA representative came in at half time, and unlike Weigand, she was positively floating, the reason was obvious from the thick sweater with the Canadian logo on it and the maple leaf painted on one of her cheeks.

"Good afternoon Mr. Selfridge, _Oberst _Weigand.." she utterly beamed at Weigand, who glared at her in response. "I'm Captain Maria Thomes of the _Explorer's Dream_, glad to meet you both at last. Commodore Bradley would like me to convey his apologies, but he is currently tied up in a meeting with the shipyard contractors."

"Fine, fine." Weigand said, voice still quite a bit gruff, "Let's get to work as quickly as we are able then."

She raised a golden eyebrow at him, "Are you sure you don't want to watch the second half?"

If looks could kill, the blonde Captain would have been dead a thousand times over. Parker howled with laughter.

* * *

**Date**: February 11th, 2163

**Location**: 75 km north of Vladivostok, Russian Federation, Earth, Sol System

"Did we really have to hold the final training _here_?" he muttered, rubbing his hands together rapidly in a vain attempt to warm them.

Beside him, Thomes snorted, breath turning to frost, "It's not _that_ cold."

Parker glared at her, in particular at the light jacket she wore, compared to his extremely thick one. "I'm sorry that I spent the last several years in a damn jungle and have a tendency to prefer sane weather."

Her riposte was interrupted when a massive AMP suit strode over, the small image of a skeletal warrior highlighted by a lightning bolt on gun barrel identifying it as Weigand's, his voice boomed over the external speakers, "We've finished the exercise, go ahead and had back into the main facility, I'll meet you there once all the troops are rounded up."

Parker and Thomes waved to show their acknowledgment before heading into the prefabricated building behind them, pausing occasionally to allow AMP suits or teams of soldiers to move past, all heading into their own buildings to escape from the cold.

Entering the small building was like walking into a sauna, and Parker quickly stripped off his heavy jacket, exopack and gloves, and made a beeline for the coffee machine sitting next to a fold-out table. Carefully sipping the holy drink and allowing it to warm his hands, he sat in the chair as Thomes pulled up her own on the side opposite.

"Glad these training exercises are over," he said, "Tired of being rushed all over the damn planet because someone realizes we didn't test something somewhere."

His companion nodded, "I can agree with you there. I'd much rather be back up at Gagarin station overseeing the last bits of construction than be here."

The two sat in comfortable silence, Parker enjoying his coffee and the warmth around him as Thomes pulled out a small computer and began to rapidly type away.

Perhaps ten minutes went by before Weigand entered, still in his combat fatigues. "Well, that is that." he announced, sitting down and pulling out his own PDA.

Parker leaned forwards across the table, "How did it all go?"

"Same as the majority of the rest. Any defensive situation we could think up resulted in the Na'vi being slaughtered in droves trying to get to us, but attacking them is a different story. Superior firepower usually enables us to accomplish the objective, but losses and ammunition expenditure is far higher than I'm comfortable with. We won't be getting any reinforcements for a full year, so any casualties are going to be bad for us."

"That reminds me," Parker spoke up, "One of Quaritch's better ideas, he made sure that most of the miners had at least some combat training to help out in defending Hell's Gate. I already assigned some of the Sec-Ops veterans to go over basic combat with the mining volunteers. They won't be much help as far as heavy combat, but in an emergency situation we can at least arm them."

Weigand eyebrows rose, "Taking some initiative are you? Good. I don't particularly want to arm civilians, all things considered, but if we're desperate, having some additional firepower can always be a useful tool." He entered what appeared to be a short note onto his pad, "Thomes, how's construction going?"

"Almost complete," she replied, looking up from her own pad, "We'll be ready for the July launch time-frame. We've already got the satellites aboard and stowed, and three of the four habitats are functioning. Soon as we're there we can detach the main antimatter reactors and you'll have your very own eyes in the sky."

The colonel jotted down another note, "Excellent. The rest of the ISV fleet should be undergoing final refits right now, and the majority of the expedition crew is en route to Baikonour in preparation. The three of us will be heading there once we're wrapped up here. We've got one final press conference before we leave, but before that we've got one final planning state to go through. The main fleet will rendezvous with the _Explorer's Dream_ at the Gagarin shipyards on May 30th, and we'll meet them there on July 1st. Fleet will depart for Pandora on the 2nd ." he glanced up at the two of them and smiled.

"This is our calm before the storm, so we're stopping by Beijing for a few days leave before we head to Kazakhstan. Let's enjoy it while we can."

* * *

**Date**: April 2nd, 2163

**Location**: Tyuratam, Kazakhstan, Earth, Sol System

Parker broke off from conversation with one of his assistants as Weigand rose at the head of the main table, "All right folks," the _Oberst_ began, "this meeting is now in session. This is our last chance to hammer out the basic outline of the expedition. Our primary goal is to resume uninterrupted shipments of Unobtanium from Pandora to Earth, in order to ensure both the expansion of humanity into a interstellar civilization as well as to ensure the progress of the reclamation projects here on Earth."

He nodded to Parker, "Administrator Parker will be in charge of the mining operations and will have the final say in all civilian matters. I will be in overall command but will allow him day-to-day control of the base. Captain Thomes will be overseeing the deuterium harvesting of Polythemus from the _Explorer's Dream _and will be in control of all space assets after Commodore Bradley and the fleet exit the system."

Quiet murmuring broke out at the last, and Parker frowned before rising, he hadn't been told anything about that, "What do you mean, 'leaves the system'?"

Weigand gazed at him seriously, "We are going to follow the example of Hernán Cortés. Once the main fleet has offloaded all of our supplies and has allowed their engines to cool, they will be returning to Sol."

Parker gaped at him, "We won't have any way to retreat if the savages attack again!"

"Exactly." the _Oberst_ replied. "The fact is, the resources on Earth are strapped at the moment, we _must_ succeed here if our race is to survive much longer. There is far too much being put into this expedition for us to panic and pull out. It will also serve as a message to the natives, one that Sully should understand. If they intend to fight us, we will fight to the death. There is no retreat for us, nowhere to run to, we will stand and fight until the last."

Parker tried to say something, but something had seemed to short out in his brain during the colonel's little speech, and he couldn't do more than simply continue to gape.

"Now," Weigand continued, bringing up a map of the region on Pandora containing Hell's Gate. "Our chosen landing site is going to be located here, 35 km southwest of the old Hell's Gate complex. It is located almost on top of a sizable deposit of unobtanium, and the location of the old native hometree and mega-load located there is within accessible distance."

He turned and nodded to Captain Jones, who rose and began his own oration, "Our primary concern upon landing is to immediately begin fortifying our position. There's good news and bad news here. We're timing our arrival to the monsoon season of the region, so we should be able to operate with minimal chance of discovery for at least two weeks. But it will be extremely difficult to work in the rainy conditions, so we're going to be conscripting nearly everyone into the construction gangs to get at least our perimeter established as soon as is possible. Optimistically, we should be able to have the perimeter established and a prefabricated base constructed within a week of landing, and then begin construction of the actual base."

He sat, and Weigand gestured to Parker, who, snapping out of his funk and forcing his voice to remain steady began his own speech, "We.. ahem, sorry, We should be looking to begin preliminary work on the mine as soon as the miners are freed up from construction duty. Dozers will be sent out to create a road as soon as we land and we should be able to position the main diggers within the first two weeks. Full strip mining won't begin until the first resupply ISV arrives with the super-heavy equipment, but we should be able to mine enough unrefined ore to fill it's cargo holds."

He sat heavily, reconstructing his thoughts, as the _Oberst_ stood one more. "As far as relations with the natives goes, we're going to ignore them unless they force the issue. Our location is not near any known tribes, although where Sully and his group relocated is unknown." He turned his gaze slowly across the room, "Remember people, this mission pertains to the future of the human race. I don't care if you're here because of the paycheck, because you believe in it, or if you just want an adventure, in the end, what matters is that you are human, and that you _are_ here. Let's go over everything one final time and fine tune it as much as we are able. We're going to have to, how do the Americans say...ah, 'wing' a lot of what we do out there, and I want to be as prepared as possible."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 6: Fading Hope**

So, my muse was annoying today, wouldn't shut up until I wrote. Think this chapter turned out all right, tried to give my OC's a bit more character and personality, make them seem more like people. Hope you enjoy.

**Again, REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 6: Fading Hope

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Fading Hope**

**Date**: June 2nd, 2163

**Location**: Site 17 (Camp Augustine), Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

Max finished the quiet prayer, stepping back away from the recently turned soil, keeping his head down, already trying to forget the small cross bearing the words '_Cindy Daniels, Avatar Team Member_'. She wasn't the first of them to die on this world, but her death hit harder than the others had. She had always been their life, keeping their spirits up as best she could. Always with a kind word for Norm when his self-confidence began to fail, always ready with a glass of water after Nathan came back in from working on their Samson. The _nantang_ hadn't cared about that, it had just cared that she was an easy meal, armed only with a lightweight pistol. They'd barely managed to recover enough of her to warrant burying, and the sight of her mangled body would be one that Max knew would haunt his nightmares for years to come.

His gaze found the other three graves next to hers, each bearing the name of the one buried beneath. Mike had been the first one to die. He'd been out hunting with Cindy and Norm when a _Lenay'ga _had struck, the stinger burying itself instantly in his chest. He probably hadn't even known it when he died. Nicole had been next, a year later. She'd gone out to get some more water to help cook with and had simply not returned. They'd searched for days, but hadn't found anything more than her pistol, half the clip empty and smeared with blood.

Max sighed and shook his head, Heiko and Nicole had been extremely close, and it hadn't come as much of a surprise when the depressed man had simply vanished one day, never to be seen again. They had waited a week before digging the symbolic grave.

Bruce shook his head, muttering quietly to himself and quickly moved back inside. Katrina dried her eyes before moving off with Walsh to start getting dinner ready.

"Only half of us left now." Norm spoke up quietly.

"Ya." Max replied.

The two remained there, gazing at the graves for a short while, simply listening to the forest around them, the soft clanks of metal as dinner was prepared.

Norm spoke up again, "Only half of us left now. Only a few more years till more humans come."

He nodded, turning slowly to head inside, Norm instinctively following him, "Yeah. If our luck holds.. we just might make it until then."

The two moved up into their shack, cycling the airlock and removing their exopacks. Max moved over to his computer terminal and sat heavily, gazing at the screen. Norm simply collapsed into his bed, staring at the ceiling of their fragile home.

It was Max's turn to break the silence, "I think we can make it Norm." he was speaking more for Norm's benefit than for his own. "If the rest of the team can keep up the rate at which they drop off food, and we keep our power use limited, I think we can last out at least five more years. Someone should be here by then."

"And then what?" Norm asked, not looking at him, "What if it's just the RDA again? Ready to make all their mistakes yet again? What if they just want to use us as scapegoats?"

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, "We've got years of research here Norm, it has to be worth something. At least we'll have something to negotiate with. Like those bacteria than Katherine is working on to try and allow us to breathe here, or everything on how Eywa functions that you've put together."

This time it was Norm who sighed, "Would be easier to work on that project if Jake and Neytiri would let me get samples from the Tree of Souls or their new Tree of Voices."

Even as he spoke the other three came through the airlock, Bruce and Walsh carrying a container of hexapede stew. Bruce snorted as he heard Norm speak, "Samples from there? Hell man, friend or no they'd probably try to kill you if you even went close. Hell, they _did_ shoot at me and Walsh when we accidentally got too close that one time."

Norm shook his head, "Tell me about it. I don't even think I've spoken to Jake in what, over a year now?"

Max leaned forward, ladling some of the stew into a small bowl. "A year and.." he did some mental math, scratching his beard as he did so, "... aaand a half, give or take."

Bruce took a sip of the stew before speaking, "Seems like we only talk to the rest of the team these days, and only when they drop off food. Kiya was telling me when she dropped off this hexapede that the clan is starting to put pressure on them to act more Na'vi and less like _tawtute_."

Everyone gazed into their bowls for a moment before Norm spoke up, "That would be bad.. to say the least. It's a pain to hunt on our own, and even with only half of us left what we grow here isn't enough to feed us."

"Especially with Jake not letting us cut down trees to clear more land, or even to try and build a wall or something with." Max chimed in, shaking his head, "Must have argued with him for hours on that, never seen him so angry. Only being able to use dead wood is a problem, especially if we intend to make crossbows."

"Tha ain no choice in tha matter." Walsh spoke up through a mouth of stew, swallowing, "Sorry, there ain't no choice in the matter. We've only got six pistols and one rifle between us, and ammunition is low as it is, we've scavenged all we can from Hell's Gate and it sure ain't gonna keep us fed for a few more years."

Max sighed and rubbed his temples, "I'll try calling him tomorrow, assuming the radio there is still working. If it isn't Walsh and I can head over to the edge of their lands and hope we run into someone polite."

That being decided, the small group of humans resumed eating their meal, quietly talking of minor things, attempting to avoid any thoughts of the future, or of the four, small crosses outside their shack.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 7: Dasvidaniya, Rodina**

Another short chapter from Max and the avatar team, one more short chapter like this before Max gets chapters as long as Selfridge's.

Two more chapters (the expedition leaving, and max meeting with jake) and the first act of this story will be complete. After that, we'll be seeing what's going to go down when 7 fully loaded ISV's arrive in Pandoran orbit.

**Reviews appreciated!**

Review Responses:

bigoldfrog: glad to know you enjoyed it!

robby cartwright: glad to see you're enjoying the Patel & co chapters. Jake will be present in person in their next appearance.

mind tellar: remember, this is a human-centric and primarily pro-human story. Who committed crimes and whose truths are indeed true are relative to the various perspectives of the characters. I don't know if I'll go any further into repercussions on Earth, but that could be a far-off idea for a sequel or a spin-off. I'll think about it.


	8. Chapter 7: Dasvidaniya, Rodina

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Dasvidaniya, Rodina**

**Date**: April 30th, 2163

**Location**: Tyuratam, Kazakhstan, Earth, Sol System

The room was packed with the press. Parker, in seat to _Oberst_ Weigand's right, slowly sipped from a glass of water while trying to project an appearance of detached calm as the stoic german calmly answered a question regarding the military units to be involved.

In truth, even four weeks later, he was still a bit rattled from the revelation that the fleet wouldn't be sticking around for more than a month after their arrival, and that if anything went wrong, as had last time, there wouldn't be anywhere for him and the others to flee to. Worse still was the apparent acceptance of this fact amongst the military personnel and the miners picked for the mission. It wasn't until only last week that he manged to corner Thomes and confront her on the subject, where she revealed that the expedition's members had all been warned that it could very well be one-way trip during the initial interviews.

Extremely irritated at being left out of the loop, especially given his position, he had virtually attacked the computer system, devouring every bit of information that he could to ensure such a surprise didn't happen again. But aside from some minor details, most of which he had little interest in, it seemed that he was now fully in the loop as far as what was occurring.

_I wish these jackals would hurry it up already_, he grumped mentally. Now that the launch date was so close, he just wanted to get it over with, and anything to get away from the press at this point. They, it seemed, had become divided when it came to '_The_ Expedition' as it was being called. Some, primarily from the studio that had released the story on the Avatar transmission and several other affiliated studios were actively hostile, while others were taking the opposite tract, instead opting to portray the expeditionary team as heroes fighting valiantly to lead humanity into a bright future.

Though the pro-human group heavily outnumbered their opposition, he found that he didn't really care that much, both were irritating. He'd been hounded constantly from reporters on both sides, some constantly requested exclusives with a "hero of humanity", while others attacked him with scathing questions and trying to get him to say that he had ordered the butchering of native children.

Agent Wallace, for all of his irritating politeness, had been indispensable since he had arrived several days ago, handling the minor press conferences concerning news releases and doing his best to shelter Parker, Weigand, and Thomes from the media's spotlight.

Weigand wrapping up his little speech and a reporter raising to her feet brought him out of his reverie. He glanced at her quickly, recognizing her as one of the anti-expedition members and preparing his thoughts accordingly, "Mr. Selfridge, a question regarding the mining operations if I may. What form of mining exactly will be employed upon Pandora, given it's status as a garden world?"

_Garden world? It's a death world moron!_ He wanted to scream aloud, but exerting his self control he spoke calmly, "We will most likely resume use of the open-pit method of strip mining, just as was being used previously. It is the most efficient at removing Unobtanium quickly and with a maximum of safety for the miners themselves. It will," he admitted, "Cause short-term damage to the environment of the region as all mining does, however, we've chosen the mining location specifically for the fact that it is near a river, and we intend to reclaim the region via creating a lake as soon as mining is complete. Our initial mining site near Hell's Gate was chosen for a similar reason, and reclaiming that area once our old equipment has been salvaged is on our agenda."

The reporter frowned, his politically correct mention of reclaiming the mining zone having taken away what she had no doubt hoped to use as ammunition against him, and she sat, lips pursed.

The next reporter had questions concerning the modifications to the _Explorer's Dream_, and Thomes leaned forward to handle that while Parker smirked to himself internally, _Take that you hippie bitch_.

It continued in that vain for several more hours, the questions from pro-expedition reporters being responded to with short speeches, often outlining in great detail what was to occur, while those questions that were barbed with the intent to cause pain were gently slapped down. Around seven the conference finally wound down, the reporters filing out as Parker and the rest of the expedition leadership made their own way out the back into a much smaller conference room, taking up chairs and helping themselves to drinks.

"Well that went well," he said aloud as everyone else was sitting. "Managed to keep the tree-huggers down and I'm pretty sure we came off as the future saviors of humanity."

Everyone else chuckled and Wallace spoke up, "Indeed. That did go very well. I feel positive that me and my team will be able to keep the public's spirits buoyed and in support of the expedition until the first cargo begins to return."

Weigand chimed in, sipping his black coffee, "That is good, the last thing we'll need is a recall order as soon as we get there. It's imperative that we maintain public support here at home."

"You'll have it." The Brit replied. "Between how cheap power is in the regions with access to the anti-matter reactors, and with how wildly popular the reclamation projects are, we've got plenty of reason to remind people that we need unobtanium."

"Plus the images of Reach and Styx have really got people excited. The colony ships aren't even built yet and people are volunteering left and right to be on the colonization teams." Thomes spoke up, "Hell , you could probably bribe people with spots if things start looking bad."

Wallace chuckled and made a notation in his pda, "Not a bad idea Captain." he glanced at the clock on the wall, "Now if you'll excuse me, I should let you all get some sleep, you're going to need it I fear. Your transports to Aldrin station leave in the morning, and from there it's out to the Gagarin shipyards."

He turned his level gaze on everyone as he left the room, "Remember, humanity is counting on you to succeed, everything else is secondary to our survival." And with that, the British agent swept from the room.

* * *

**Date**: May 1st, 2163

**Location**: Tyuratam, Kazakhstan, Earth, Sol System

The reviewing stands around the launch pad were packed to overflowing, it took Parker a bit by surprise. He had know, intellectually, that the mission to return to Pandora was popular, that most humans _knew_ exactly how critical unobtanium had become to their species. But it was one thing to know it, and entirely another to _see_ it in person.

The cheering couldn't really be defined as such, it was a single tide of human noise rising and falling, he could barely make out half a dozen national anthems being sung, flags of every description being waved about with wild abandon.

Weigand leaned over to him and shouted in his ear, the only way he could be heard, "The UN is gaining wildly in popularity with this!" he gestured at the dozens of bright blue and white flags being waved, beaming as he did, "Who knew that a bunch of blue monkeys throwing a tantrum five light years away could cause humanity to start banding together?"

He chuckled a bit at the mention of the blue monkeys and nodded in response, occasionally waving to the crowd as they moved towards their Valkyrie. Turning at the base of the ramp, he and Weigand paused one final time to wave at the crowd before entering the shuttle and taking their seats next to the rest of the administration staff. The shutting hatch suddenly cut off the tide of noise and Parker realized he could hear ringing in his ears.

Yawning and stretching out his legs, he rested his head against the bulkhead as he felt the shuttle lift off the ground, and begin it's slow acceleration. He didn't realize he was wearing a contented smile until Weigand mentioned it.

"You're getting caught up in it as well," the German chuckled after remarking on it.

Parker frowned, "Caught up in what?"

His companion nodded at the hatch, and the crowd falling away behind it, "Humanity. The idea that we as a species deserve to survive and thrive in this cold galaxy. That humans are worth fighting for."

The _Oberst_ chuckled at the incredulous look he shot him at the word 'fighting', "I don't mean fighting as I and my men do, _Herr_ Selfridge. Mining on Pandora to try and wrest unobtanium from the land is fighting in it's own way, and may prove no less dangerous."

Parker said nothing to that, opting to close his eyes and try and relax instead. It didn't last long, even as the Valkyrie cleared the atmosphere and begin to make it's way to Armstrong station he was already thinking about what Weigand had said.

He _had_ been a bit caught up in the moment when the expedition launched, he admitted to himself. But that was nothing right? Just a contact high, like being in a football stadium, you couldn't help but be pulled into the roar of the crowd, it was just human nature. He was only doing this because he had been dragged into it, and because the RDA had given him a full promotion with raise.

He frowned to himself, shaking off the thought that there could be another reason why he was doing this, and forced himself to think instead of the initial mining plan, and if there was anything that could be done to improve it's efficiency in the early stages of arrival.

By the time they docked at the station to transfer to the inter-system ship that would take them out to Gagarin station, he'd forgotten all about the conversation.

* * *

**Date**: June 30th, 2163

**Location**: Near Gagarin Shipyards, Orbit of Saturn, Sol System

A fleet rendezvousing in space was a lot less impressive in real life than it was in the movies. For all Parker could tell, there wasn't any other ships within his eyesight. If he looked at the holographic table aboard the _Ever Onwards, _he knew it would reveal the other six ISV's all in formation in a ring pattern around the flagship, the _Luna's Rise_. But since that ring was over a hundred kilometers in diameter to ensure that the ships would never pose any risk of getting in one of the others way, it gave the appearance of lonesome solitude.

He turned from the small window and made his way over to the command station, feet striking the ground lightly in the low artificial gravity.

"We're about ready, Administrator." the ship's elderly captain spoke up from his bridge station. "You can probably head down to the cryo tubes now, we'll be at Alpha Centauri before ya can blink."

Parker smiled dutifully and headed down the long shaft connecting the living quarters to the ship proper, very carefully moved from the artificial gravity zone to the zero-g section, and pulled himself along the walls into the cryo chamber. Everyone else was already out, and a pair of med techs were waiting for him.

Even as they helped him into his pod, he realized he was absurdly glad he was going to sleep through the trip. He didn't think he'd have the stomach to go through with it if he had to be awake for the full voyage.

His last thought as the drugs lulled him to sleep was that he was oddly looking forwards to the expression on those blue-skinned savage's faces when they realized that the humans had come back.

* * *

**Date**: July 2nd, 2163

**Location**: Rendezvous Point, L2 Lagrange point, Saturn, Sol System

Had anyone been present to witness it, it would have been an impressive sight. Seven massive plumes of exhaust lit up in space simultaneously as the largest assembled human space faring fleet began its long, slow acceleration out system, their bows pointed firmly in the direction of the star nearest to Sol, heading for a small moon that contained everything their species needed, yet in turn wanted nothing to do with them.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 8: The Road to Hell**

And the fleet has finally left, the beginning of the action is not far off, wonder what those Na'vi will think when the humans show up? And for that matter, what will the avatar team think, especially of the expedition's motivations?

Next chapter, Jake meets with Max concerning the difficulties the avatar team faces, then maybe a filler chapter or two to occupy the seven-year gap, then the arrival.

Hope everyone is enjoying and please review! Even if you just say "I read it, it was ok" any form of review is awesome and I want to hear from you!


	9. Chapter 8: The Road to Hell

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Road to Hell**

**Date**: June 3rd, 2163

**Location**: Edge of Omatikaya territory, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Max and Walsh carefully made there way through the forest, moving slowly and carefully. Neither had been much of an out-doors man, but when the alternative is being _eaten_ by something, you tend to learn real fast. That wasn't to say they had anywhere near the skill of a Na'vi, but they could move lightly and quickly when they had to, and both had been abusing one of the greatest strengths of the human body: endurance. Max remembered talking with Cindy about it several years back, after she had commented about how she and Norm had been able to run farther than some of the Avatars they'd been hunting with.

"Remember," he had spoken up, "As a species, it's one of our defining assets: the ability to run for very long periods of time on minimal resources. Even against a full-grown Na'vi, an in-shape human can run for a much longer period of time with significantly less nutrition. I mean, think about simple things like our sports. Football requires someone to be able to move, often at a run, for an hour and a half, more if the game goes into overtime. Or a marathon, try getting a Na'vi to run for forty-two kilometers with only a few sips of water, they won't even get close."

It was a good thing for them to have, it was quite a hall on foot from site 17 to the areas where they could reasonably expect to run into someone from the tribe to escort them the rest of the way.

"Still wish that Jake would let us bring the Samson in. It's the only thing we have sufficient fuel for." Walsh muttered from his place just behind Max as they cleared a fallen tree.

"He was unhappy enough to find out we were using it to drive game, I don't even want to imagine what he would say if we flew in to the _Kelutral_." Max retorted as they resumed their jogging pace.

"Probably ban us from ever showing up again, not that he'll be thrilled to see us as it is. Still don't see why it was such a big deal to them, they do the same thing with their _ikran,_" Walsh groused.

They'd been over this before, many times. "Because it's technology Walsh, and because not too many years ago people were using Samsons to try and kill them."

The other man sighed and slowed, leaning against a tree and digging into his pack for water, "I _know _that Max, and I _know_ that it's their world, their rules, but it does mean life's more the bitch for us and its really gotten _old_ after all these years. Hell, we _helped _ them didn't we? Risked our lives for them?" He shook his head, "Now, I'm not saying I regret it, that axe-crazy Quaritch and that worm Selfridge needed standing up to by God, but don't you think the Na'vi should be a bit more accepting of us? I mean, we bend over backwards for them and they accept it like it's their due, but we do anything that goes against what they think people should live like and they freak out at us."

He shook his head, settling down, resting against a different tree and carefully drinking around his exopack, always an awkward ordeal, before he responded. "I know Wash, but what do you want me to do about it? We're managing on our own, barely, but we still need them to help us, and a lot of them are still real bitter about what happened with the RDA. A lot of them didn't want any of us to stay at all, it took a lot for Jake and Neytiri to convince them."

Walsh opened his mouth to answer before suddenly jerking his head to the left. "Somethings here." he snapped, drawing his gun.

The former Avatar scientist reached for his own pistol, feeling the hairs on his neck raise as his own senses picked up on what Wash had already figured out. Something was watching them. The two moved slowly and carefully, putting their backs to opposite trees so they could watch each other, and glanced carefully around.

After maybe a minute of silence, Max spoke up, raising his voice, "_Kaltxi?_"

There was a moment of silence before a Na'vi warrior emerged suddenly from a bush to Walsh's left, bow drawn but arrow held loose. He nodded in return to the two humans and spoke in heavily accented english, "What bring you here, _tawtute_?"

Carefully putting his gun back into its holster, he replied, "We wish to speak to Jake Sully, our friend."

The hunter frowned at them before nodding slowly, "I will take you there, but cause no trouble for us."

"We won't." Max assured him, and the two humans followed their new guide towards the massive tree in the distance.

* * *

**Date**: June 3rd, 2163

**Location**: Omaticaya Kelutral, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

They arrived shortly after the tribe's dinner. Jake was waiting for them at the base of the tree, casually inspecting his bow as they approached.

Exchanging quiet greeting in Na'vi, the two scientists took seats on the ground across from him, carefully taking water out of their packs and drinking.

Jake was the first to break the silence. "What's up, Max? Not that I'm not glad to see you, it's been ages, but you do know that the tribe doesn't really like you here right? Better be important is all."

Max winced slightly, being reminded of that, and especially in the cavalier way that Jake said it, was not how he had hoped to start this conversation. "Cindy's dead." he said quietly, "_Nantang_ attacked her."

The _Olo'eyktan_ gave a wince of his own, "Oh. Oh, sorry man. I know she was.. wow." he finished a bit lamely, "Was expecting you to be asking to use technology again, not that. Um, did you want Moat or Neytiri to head over to perform a service or something?"

_And yet a part of him remains fallibly human, _Max smiled to himself mentally as Jake stumbled over his words. "It's all right... we laid her to rest last night, yo don't need to worry about that. But it brings up more problems for us.."

This time the former marine _did_ understand him, "One less person helping hunt and gather food. And, let me guess, you want to start using the Samson to hunt from the air again?"

Max winced more heavily this time at the hostility in his tone, "We don't have much choice Jake." he tried to sound calm and reasonable, he _had_ to get the message across. "The door gun is too heavy for us to carry around, and it's the only weapon we have ammunition for. We're almost out of pistol rounds, and our crossbows aren't good for hunting anything larger than a Tapirus. If we can't use the Samson, we're going to have to cut down trees to make a barricade so we can stay safe and increase what we're growing."

Jake actually hissed at the mention of cutting down trees, "_No._"

Walsh spoke up, "It's one or the other Jake. The Avatar team is still helping us out a bit, but they've got their duties to the clan. If we want to live, we _have_ to either hunt from the air, or increase our farmland and defensibility. We don't have a choice."

Sully rose and strode back and forth over the ground, his tail flicking angrily back and forth. "So, either you drive off game with the Samson, or you harm Eywa to defend yourselves."

"We don't have to hunt nearby here," Max spoke up, trying to calm him down, "We've still got years worth of fuel saved up in the armory block, we could easily hunt near there instead? Minimal disruption to the tribe, keeps us alive, and we don't have to harm Eywa."

Turning and glaring at them, Jake resumed pacing for several more moments before finally giving a grudging nod. "Fine. That's fine. But _keep_ _it away from the kelutral_. Understand? I don't want my kid, or any other _'eveng_ to start having nightmares. About those _things_."

Max felt a tap on his should and saw Walsh glancing nervously deeper into the tree, several other Na'vi had walked forwards, frowning, no doubt attracted by the sounds of Jake's outburst.

Glancing behind him, the clan leader visibly composed himself before turning to look at Max, "Remember, _away_ from here Max. Sorry about Cindy." And with that he strode back into the tree, rapidly climbing into it's heights.

Sighing, the two humans got to their feet and began to make their way back in the direction of site 17. Once they had left the area of the village, Max spoke up, "Well, that went both better and worse than I thought it would."

"No kidding." his companion replied sardonically.

* * *

**Next up is the First Interlude**

All right, Jake finally makes an appearance. It's been 9 years since he passed through the eye, and it seems he's now far more Na'vi than human, but slivers do still show through now and again.

This wraps up the first act of the story, and I think I'm going to put in a filler chapter from Agent Wallace's POV about what's going on on Earth, and one more short one from Max to show what's happening during the long trip. But I do intend to keep the sequence of alternating Selfridge/Patel point of views after that.

**Review please! I'm getting plenty of people viewing, but more _re_viewing would be awesome! Hope everyone is enjoying my _humancia_ styled story.**


	10. Interlude I: A Cause Most Just

James Cameron owns Avatar.

* * *

**Interlude I: A Cause Most Just.**

**Date**: March 31st, 2168

**Location**: Helsinki, Finland, Terra, Sol System

It had not been a particularly stressful time in the five years since the expedition had left, but that did not stop Matthew Wallace from fully enjoy the brisk morning air or the smell of pine. Finland had long been a refuge for nature, but with the increasing scope of what was being called the _Terran Reformation Project, _spawned by the nearly unlimited cheap power provided by the anti-matter reactors, the world was slowly turning green again. Things seemed to be coming together for humanity. The United-Nations, largely with the support of the European and North American Unions was becoming the unified government of the world and it's colonies. Scientists and intellectuals had even lobbied for changing the common name for their world to the Roman_ Terra_ to show the rebirth of thought and growth occurring.

Not that it was easy. Or cheap. Or anywhere near complete. The world was still mostly a uniform brown and blue when seen from space, but patches of green could now be seen in Scandinavia, Siberia, the Amazon and the American Northwest. But it was, in turn, causing it's own problems as slowly as it was curing the air.

Nations without access to the massive reactors, limited as they were to the Americas and Europe after the cut-off from Pandoran unobtanium, were beginning to agitate. China and India in particular, the latter being long considered the world's largest ghetto after over a dozen failures to control their population, were becoming increasingly jealous over the green spreading across other regions of the world, and of the money they were being forced to spend to help other nations recover.

_And that is why the expedition is so damn important. We can keep a lid on them and the African nations for a while longer, but it's an explosion waiting to happen. World War IV is the last thing this planet and our species needs right now, but if we don't resume the flow of Unobtanium, it could very well be what we have_. He scowled, _Damn the Na'vi for letting this happen, and damn the RDA for fucking up their end of the bargain. We gave them power, they were supposed to use it to better human advancement, not putting us perilously close to the brink of more resource-wars._

Before his mixed mental musing and cursing could get out of a control, the soft rings of his mobile brought his mind back down to the earth. _That's 'back down to Terra' now_ he chuckled quietly to himself before heading into the resort home, closing the sliding door behind him and answering.

"This is Matthew Wallace, how may I help you this fine day?"

The voice on the other end of the line chuckled, "It is only a fine day in Helsinki my friend, here in Phoenix it is a miserably hot day I assure you."

The British UN investigator turned media representative smiled even though he knew the other couldn't see it, "Ah! Charles my old friend, how are you? Still trapped in the American desert city?"

"Quite." the other UN agent replied, "Thought I would let you know ahead of time that things are going quite fine over here. The press conference, which I know you did not watch since you are on vacation, went smoothly. Concern over the natives on Pandora seems to be vanishing quite rapidly here, everyone is abuzz with that terrorist attack in Kuwait. That and apparently the local team won some sort of 'hockey' championship. I don't understand Americans, how can they play a sport on ice in the middle of the desert?"

Wallace chuckled, "I have no idea, try not to catch their insanity while you are over there. Is the meeting still on in Geneva next month?"

"Yes indeed, the new Secretary-General wants a full update on everything that is going on, particularly concerning our efforts to keep the Africans and Asians calm."

"Good. I heard that Veronica had thought up something on those lines," he frowned, trying to recall, "Something about diverting some of the reformation funds to Madagascar, get another fusion plant or two running there to free up resources to start reclaiming it, throw them a bone so to speak."

"That's not bad," the other replied, "Something to consider at least. I have to go for now, I have a train to catch back to the coastline. See you in two weeks, enjoy your vacation."

"Oh I intended to," he assured him. The two exchanged the pleasantries of goodbye before he hung up and moved back outside to the patio, eying the reclining chair with something akin to lust. He intended to enjoy his vacation for all it was worth, he had a feeling that keeping the world from exploding was going to start becoming far more challenging in the future, after all, they still had nine years before the first ISV returned with unobtanium to start work on the Nanjing reactor.

So he would definitely enjoy his vacation while he could.


	11. Chapter 9: The Few

I don't own Avatar.

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**Chapter 9: The Few**

**Date**: March 31st, 2165

**Location**: Hell's Gate complex, Pandora, Alpha Cenaturi A system

The three survivors were huddled around one another, trying to quell their shaking, doing everything they could to ignore the screaming and scratching of the _nantang _pack just beyond the armory block's massive doors.

The day that had started out routine enough had turned into a nightmare within moments of landing at the old base. They had received the automated warning from one of the still functioning satellites in orbit that Pandora was passing into the shadow of Polyphemus, and that the radiation levels would become toxic to humans within a local day. Sighing, they had rolled up their sleeves and gotten to work.

Bruce and Walsh had loaded up as much food into the Samson as they could, while Katrina had settled in and begun the pre-flight list. Norm had packed some experiment materials so they would have something to do while Max locked up the shacks and left a message for Miguel, who was supposed be dropping off more food the next day.

The flight had been smooth, no signs of a _Toruk_ or _Lonataya _had been seen, and they had landed and carefully moved the Samson inside just fine. The small group had been preparing to close the massive doors when Bruce had let out a shout, drawn his pistol, and opened fire at an inky-black silhouette that had suddenly raced towards him.

Before the others had even been able to draw their weapons, the _nantang_ had seized their friend by his left leg, the crunching of bones audible over his screams, and had hurled him from the doorway, out into the open. Even as they rushed forwards to try and save him, the viper wolf screaming as their pistols barked and bullets tore flesh from its body, more howling cackles surrounded them as the rest of the pack rushed forwards from their hiding places in the ruins of the old base. Walsh had managed to get to Bruce, trying to drag him back with him before both had suddenly been covered in a furious flash of talons and teeth, their agonized screams tearing into the night, sounds that Max had never thought a human throat could produce.

Stumbling back, he and Norm had managed to seal the massive door while Katrina expended precious rounds from her assault rifle to keep the creatures at bay. None of them had spoken after the doors slammed shut, all three had simply broken down, staying upright only to carefully turn on the back-up generator and the lights they had rigged up last year. And then.. they had simply collapsed, sobbing quietly, trying to pretend that they did not see each others weakness.

"M-Max, Katrina?" Norm spoke up some time later, his voice echoing in the chamber. Hours.. minutes.. Max had no idea how much time had passed. "Promise me something?"

Max shared a glance with Katrina, both carefully wiping their faces as they turned to Norm.

"Promise me.. that you'll shoot me before something like that happens?"

Katrina blinked slowly and croaked out, "..what?"

Norm shuddered, before spinning away and vomiting violently. "I'm not afraid.. not afraid to die in a fight. But... but to be eaten.. like that... _they_ _were still alive!" _ he retched several more times.

Exchanging another glance with Kat, the two moved over and carefully helped Norm move to the makeshift beds near the Samson, where he promptly curled up, shivering, "Promise me that.. promise me that..."

The words felt like sandpaper in his throat, "We promise Norm, don't worry."

The two stayed next to him until his shuddering slowed into the deep sleep of the truly defeated. Max jerked his head at his female companion and she followed him a few steps away, "Grab the rifle and come on, we have to make sure the entrances are all sealed and that nothing got in here."

Pale, she nodded, and the two slowly moved around the massive block, covering each other as the carefully approached and tested the sealed entrance leading to the old tunnel, before carefully going over the old and rusting AMP suits and mining equipment that littered the bay.

After nearly an hour of slow, cautious work, the two moved over and collapsed in turn next to Norm, allowing sleep to claim them. The next morning, and the two empty beds next to them, would come far too early.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 10: Hurricane Season**

And only three humans still survive. This chapter is a bit of a reference to people's tendency to portray Pandora as some sort of Eden. Remember the scene where the viper wolfs and banshees attack the humans at the end? They weren't just wounding them folks, and when you get down to it, every human is plain out _terrified _of being eaten by something else.

So a bit of darkness here, but the fleet will be arriving shortly so we can go back to a bit of philosophy before the action heats up again.


	12. Chapter 10: Hurricane Season

James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Hurricane Season**

**Date**: March 3rd, 2170

**Location**: Outer Orbit of Polyphemus, Alpha Centauri A system

He hated the headache. And the taste of cotton in his mouth. And the way his joints screamed in protest when he tried to move. He hated waking up from Cryo in general, but then again, who did not? Getting frozen into a cube and then thawed out was not a pleasant process, even if it was a necessary one. He would really rather not lose several years of his life starting at the walls of the ship, thank you.

_I really have no idea how the hell the crews stay sane._

Groaning, he lay back with his eyes closed as the medtechs carefully unhooked the needles and tubes from his body.

"I take it we're there?" he asked aloud, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Yessir." the one taking the IV line out of his left arm replied. "We're about twelve hours out from orbit, but the Commodore wanted the senior staff awake and ready for a video conference before we wake the rest of the team up tomorrow."

Parker sighed and carefully pushed himself up, grabbing the wall as he did so. "Well, that most likely means something's gone wrong already, so I'd better go fix it shouldn't I?"

The medtechs laughed dutifully before pushing themselves off, floating towards the front of the ship to prepare everything so they could easily awaken the full complement the next day.

He, meanwhile, headed in the opposite direction, carefully adjusting himself properly before heading into the main crew area, the weak artificial gravity pulling his feet to the ground and he found it oddly comforting to be able to walk again. Moving slowly down the long tube connecting the rotating command section to the rest of ship, he eventually emerged into the ship's cramped bridge.

"Mornin' Sunshine." the captain drawled, nodding his head towards a vacant station, "Video conference is already startin', and I sent one oh mah crew to get ya some food."

It took Parker's frosted brain several moments to translate what the man had said into intelligible English before he nodded, murmured his thanks, and took the indicated seat, the previous occupant having already brought up the conference channels, the screen showing him Commodore Bradley, Captain Thomes, and_ Oberst_ Weigand. That Weigand looked as haggard as he felt cheered up him immeasurably.

"Administrator, you're here, good." The Commodore began, stroking the silver beard that contrasted sharply with his midnight black skin. "We sent our arrival message yesterday, and received a full report in response. Apparently Professor McKinney has continued working even in his old age, the new algorithms improve the bit-transfer rate from 3-bits per hour to nearly twenty. It is still prohibitively expensive, but it will allow more detailed communication with Terra."

He blinked at the last, "Terra?"

Bradley nodded, "Apparently a new Renaissance is underway, at least in Western civilization. The United Nations officially moved to recognize the Earth by its more Latin name last year."

The colonel spoke up at this point, "While that _is_ interesting, I am more concerned about the political situation back home."

"The communication was light on details. Twenty-bits per hour is still very limited remember. The basics are that the UN is holding things together, but that minor conflicts have started to break out across Africa and Indonesia."

Parker frowned, "More resource wars?"

The Commodore grunted in acknowledgment, "Most likely. There was an undercurrent of haste in the communication, as well as a reminder that without a successful return our race could very well tear itself apart."

Thomes sighed on her screen, with one of her pale hands massaging her forehead, "Nothing is ever simple is it? Have we at least achieved contact with any of the old satellites in orbit?"

"A few. Most of the lower-orbit ones are gone, but the long-term ones in place around Polythemus are still reporting, as well as maybe a third of the Pandoran ones." Bradley paused, checking something off-screen, "There is some good news for us, the rainy season is in full swing, that means that most of the target continent is currently covered in storms, and the only functioning weather satellite is predicting it will stay that way for several more weeks at least."

"Good," he spoke up, "Any chance that the Avatar team could notice we're using the satellites?"

"Assuming that they're still alive?" the commodore shook his head, "No, they're broadcasting in the open at this point, all we have to do is listen. There aren't any signals being detected from Hell's Gate, so both the chances of them being alive, much less still having any of the long-range scanners online to try and pick us up, is minimal."

He felt.. ambiguous on that. On one hand, they _had_ betrayed him, held him hostage, and then booted him off-world. On the other, he was not a particularly violent individual, and wishing them _dead_, especially considering that on Pandora, dead was usually synonymous with 'eaten', was something else entirely from not liking them.

Lost in his musings, he missed the next part of the Commodore's debrief, snapping out of it only when Weigand spoke, "So, at this point everything is going according to plan. The improved communications with home are a bonus, and the storms are exactly as we need them to be to cover our initial arrival. Let's start getting everyone up and ready, we're going to have to move fast once we land, I want our defensive perimeter established as soon as possible. That reminds me, Parker, has your team chosen a name for Extra-solar colony Two?"

Nodding, Parker smiled. "As the base will be located near the river Styx, my staff felt it fitting for our new home to be named Tartarus."

* * *

**Date**: March 5th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus (Extra-solar Colony 2), Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

Parker had never seen army engineers in action before. Within moments of landing in the small clearing, Captain Jones had immediately started shouting and organized chaos had descended upon the area. Valkyries loaded with the clear-cutting equipment had landed immediately after those carrying the troops had lifted off and away, and the engineers had promptly put the miners operating them to work, starting up the process of enlarging the small clearing to the massive size required.

Heavy tarps had been erected over the areas where the first bunkers would be set into the ground, and men were already tearing at the muddy soil with hand tools. Weigand and Parker had taken refuge from the steady rain and largely stayed out of Jones' way as he directed his men. Transports had been steadily coming and going, offloading men and, more importantly, equipment for several hours before the first incident occurred.

Shouting had broken out on the left side of the clearing, followed by the dull roars of an AMP suit opening fire. Before Parker had even reacted to the sound, everyone in uniform had drawn their weapons and taken up firing positions. Several automatic weapons joined the heavy thuds of the AMP's gun for several moments before going silent.

"Medic!" the bellow came suddenly across the radio in the silence, and a pair of men bearing red crosses had sprinted into the underbrush.

"Report!" Weigand snapped into his own headset.

"Viperwolf pack." Jone's voice came across a few moments later. "Jumped one of our guys, AMP suit punched it off our guy and shot it to pieces. Rest of the pack attacked but we killed two more, drove the rest off. Our guy's cut up bad but the medics say it's mostly flesh wounds from the claws, AMP got it off him before it could bite him."

Parker shivered. He'd seen what Viperwolves jaws could do to human flesh, and the bones beneath. He turned on his own headset, "Any sign of the natives?"

"Negative," the other American replied, "And let's hope it stays that way."

The _Oberst_ spoke, "Parker, what's the status on the gravel mine? We need to start working on the complex as soon as possible."

He called up the data on his tablet, "We just landed the main digger two hours ago, its broken ground, but it's slow going in all of this mud. It should hit the stone by tonight, and we'll be landing the mixing equipment in the morning."

His superior nodded, "Good. We must remain on schedule as best as we are able. It is only a matter of time before things worse than a few viperwolves stumbled across us."

Parker nodded and checked a few more entries from his mining teams. "Clear cutting is ahead of schedule, a few of your AMP teams are helping out by dragging the downed trees out of the way of the clear-cutters. Gravel pit should be on schedule, and the survey team from the new mine site says their equipment reports amounts matching the orbital scans, it's a _very_ good sized lode there."

He paused to take a quick sip of water, awkwardly realigning his exopack on his face after he was done, "Thomes called in an hour ago while you were busy with Jones. They've shut down the anti-matter reactor on the _Dream, _and she's in geo-sync orbit above us. They'll start launching satellites tomorrow once they've finished reconfiguring her."

"_Sehr sehr gut._" Weigand glanced to his left as the medics raced past, a blood covered form on the stretcher they carried. Parker grimaced as he noticed it, and he followed them up and into one of the Valkyries before going back to examining his reports, feeling queasy. The sight of blood had never been one he cared for, and it took him a while to get his head back into the game.

Less than five hours later, gunfire broke out again, followed once more by a scream of "Medic!" across the radio.

"I hate this planet." he muttered.

The mining foremen he had been talking with, another Hell's Gate veteran, murmured, "Amen."

* * *

**Date**: Marth 9th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus Base, Pandora, Alpha Cenaturi A System

"We _think_ there may be some survivors of the Avatar team."

Parker blinked at snapped his attention to _Kapitan_ Adler, who was delivering the briefing. The base had begun to take shape over the last several days, and even though the meeting was still taking place under a heavy tarp, there were numerous concrete bunkers now decorating the freshly enlarged clearing. Gaping pits revealed the future foundations of larger buildings, and the cut trees had been pressed into use as supports, keeping the muddy soil from simply refilling the precisely dug holes.

The German had recently returned after scouting the old Hell's Gate location, and Parker had been expecting him to report that the place was in ruins, which it was, but that had_ not_ been something he had expected to hear.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, causing everyone to look at him. "I mean, how the _hell_ would a bunch of tree-hugging scientists survive here for sixteen years?"

"I do not know," the lithe Germen captain replied, "But there is evidence of habitation in the old Armory block. Its electrical system has been tied to a back up generator in the interior, and there were numerous cots located within. Relatively fresh oil stains would indicate a functioning vehicle of some form, and we think it likely they've been using the building to avoid the yearly radiation storms."

He frowned at that, "What are we going to do about them?"

"Nothing," Weigand spoke. "We treat them as we treat the Na'vi, we ignore them unless they initiate contact with us first. "

"But they would be the ones most likely to discover us! We can't exactly hide the fact that we're hauling away everything we can from Hell's Gate and the mining site!" he protested, "Shouldn't we at least apprehend them or something?"

The _Oberst_ was shaking his head before he had even finished. "No we will not, Administrator. They are still human, and given the lack of any Avatar control signals to be found, it could be that they have remained separate from the natives. It is also quite possible that, as scientists, they have come across something important during their time here. We talk first. If they do not have any information of value, or remain overly dedicated to their blue-skinned friends, then perhaps we can go with your method."

Parker mulled that thought around before nodding slowly. He was not fond, to put it lightly, of being reminded that he was not in overall command here, but what the other man had said made sense. No sense in throwing away a valuable resource without at least attempting to use it first, even if the odds of the hippies siding with their own species was astronomically low, in his opinion.

The briefing continued, with Thomes taking up the speaking role via the communications panel on the table before them. "We've landed everything we can until more of the construction is complete. We still have the heavy mining equipment and most of the heavy weapons up here, as well as the disassembled Samson squadron."

Jones spoke up here, "We should have the perimeter finished within another few days, and the landing pad along with the apartments are next on our list, we can expect those done within two weeks. A bigger concern is that satellite imagery shows that we'll be losing our cloud cover in just over a week, and even the natives will be smart enough to notice the Valkyries when they bring down the rest of our gear."

"No help for it." The _Oberst_ shook his head. "The outer perimeter will be established by then, as will be our satellites network. If the natives try and attack, we'll see how they like dealing with heavy fixed defenses, and if they call on other tribes for help like they did before, our satellites will give us ample warning to decide what to do about it. Let's get back to work people, remember, Terra and humanity are counting on us out here."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 11: The Game Begins**

And the expedition has arrived and begun construction of their new base. Wonder how long they'll remain unnoticed by the locals hmm? And what will Max and the others do when they realize whose back?

Review please!


	13. Chapter 11: The Game Begins

I don't own, or claim to own, James Cameron's Avatar. You can tell, because my name isn't James Cameron. Also, I'm not a millionaire.

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Game Begins**

**Date**: March 20th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The rain had finally let up, and Max was thankful for that. They had started to run very low on meat in the last several days, and all three of them were heartily sick of eating just produce. Katrina was in their Samson, carefully bringing the aged craft through the pre-flight checklist. Personally, Max was amazed she had been able to keep it running. She had been only an amateur pilot, and they had had to scavenge the old base to find both parts and the manuals on how to keep it running.

Norm was locking up their shacks as Max carefully loaded a box of ammunition on the door gun mounted on the left of the Samson, the other gun having been cannibalized years ago to keep at least one of them functional.

The years since the brutal deaths of Bruce and Walsh had been hard. Though the Avatars had stepped up their help as best they could, the Na'vi had not been as accepting. Though Jake and especially Neytiri had been sympathetic, and helped dealing with the aftermath of their deaths, the rest of the Na'vi had been fairly indifferent, and over time, the goodwill had once more faded. It had been two years since he had spoken to Jake, and the last time he had seen Neytiri had probably been at the funeral.

_Even the Avatar team is distant to us now,_ he mused as he settled into the Samson, making sure the weapon was loaded and the safety on. _Most of them became full members of the clan long ago, and only a few are clinging to their humanity_.

He sighed and settled back as Katrina started up the Samson's rotors, Norm holding his battered ball-cap to his head as he raced over and climbed in.

"It's going to be good to eat good again!" The other scientist said with a smile, strapping himself in.

Max smiled in return. Norm had had a bad time of it after the deaths of their friends. He'd been nearly catatonic the entire two weeks of the radiation storm, and had barely spoken at all for months afterwords. Working him out of it had been hard, and it had been nearly a year before he was back to his usual self. He still had problems with it, but Max thought it was mostly linked to his feelings of jealously towards Jake and the rest of the Avatar team than it did with the bleak memories.

"Damn straight Norm, no more plant food for us, let's get something real!" Katrina laughed over the comms, slowly raising their bird into the air and heading to their hunting grounds near Hell's Gate. She had not had as many issues as Norm had, though she still would slip occasionally into a brooding depression, usually sparked by an off-hand comment about something Walsh or Bruce would have liked or done. She coped by obsessing over the Samson, to the point where one Avatar who had been visiting had commented that she loved the machine more than any Na'vi loved their Ikran. They had all had a good laugh about it then, but Max had noticed that the Avatars hadn't laughed as hard as the three of them had.

He sighed again, and closed his eyes as they flew. It had been fifteen years now, fifteen years of working harder than he had in the rest of his life combined simply to stay alive. Of putting up with prejudice from the very people he had saved, of-

"Hey, Max?" Katrina's voice came over the speakers, it sounded.. stressed.

Blinking, he looked around and realized with a start they were already near the old mining site. _Old age will do that to you,_ he thought, mentally chuckling, "What's up Katrina?"

"Where's the excavator?" her voice was still off.

Trading a frown with Norm, he turned and leaned out of the Samson, looking at the mine.. and at the mine. He shook his eyed, closed his eyes, and looked again. The excavator was massive, the largest human land vehicle every built, it had survived, albeit in a rusting fashion, for_ years _despite Eywa's best efforts to destroy it, it _could not_ just be gone, that made no sense!

Yet when he looked again, the multi-ton, multi-story behemoth was still missing from its place in the center of the crater.

Norm was also looking, and his voice was very small, "I have a very, very bad feeling about this Max."

"Katrina.. get us to Hell's Gate as fast as you can, but stay low!" he shouted into his mic, hanging on as Katrina immediately brought the craft in a sharp bank, the engines roaring up to full speed.

He glanced at a pale Norm, "You think they're back?"

His friend, glanced back at the mining crater behind them, "What.. _who_ else could have done that?"

Max grimaced and nodded, hanging on tightly as they approached the old RDA base. It was immediately evident as she brought them in closer that something had happened here as well. The base looked like it had been attacked, rusting towers had been torn down, walls shattered and the machinery within removed. The heavy door to the armory block had been opened and Max could tell even from here that the ruined AMP suits and Samsons had all been taken as well. Even the rusted husk that had been intended to become the second Dragon gunship was missing.

"Get us out of here, take us home." he shook his head, _Humanity is back all right, but where are they, who are they, and why are they here?_

He mentally slapped himself at the last, the first two were unknowns, but the last question had an obvious answer.

"We need to warn Jake and the others about this Max!" Norm shouted over the noise of the engines, "And we have to do it right now!"

"Only way to get there quick is in this metal beast, and they'll freak out as soon as we get close!" Katrina's voice came on again.

"What will they do if they find out we waited to tell them?" Max countered, "This is too important to wait, take us there!"

"I told you so in advance then!" she replied, and with that, they headed to bring news that no one would want to hear, in a vehicle that many could very well try to kill them for daring to bring there.

* * *

**Date**: March 20th, 2170

**Location**: Omaticay Kelutral, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

They had not been shot at as they approached, but Max felt that was due more to the lateness of the hour than anything else. He could already hear shouting and see angry Na'vi moving towards them as they landed. Kat hadn't bothered to slow down, at all, as they banked hard around the home tree, and he knew the noise would have been loud enough to wake everyone inside.

He leaped from the Samson before it had finished touching down, and glanced around before heading for a severely angry looking Neytiri.

"We have told you not to bring your _machines_ here!" she snarled as soon as he was close, "How _dare_-"

He snapped at her, "We don't have _time_ for this Neytiri, they're back."

She froze, anger still in her posture as she stared at him. "You are sure? How? When?"

"Hell's Gate's been ransacked for anything salvageable, as has the mining site. Sometime in the last few weeks, since everything was there before the monsoons began, but it's hard to be sure." he shook his head, "Sorry about intruding like this, but we felt it was something you needed to know immediately."

The anger slowly drained out of her posture, and she nodded, "Have her take it from here until you must leave and it will be enough."

Nodding, he turned and moved back over to the Samson as Neytiri called for calm and for someone to fetch Jake.

He nodded to Katrina and shouted so she could hear through the canopy, "Head out a ways, we'll contact you on the radio when we're done here."

She nodded and brought the rotors back up to full speed as Norm jumped out, following Max back over to Neytiri, who was speaking to a grim looking Jake.

The _Olo'eyktan_ turned to him as soon as he arrived, "They're back then." It was a statement, not a question.

Norm and Max both nodded, the former speaking "They ransacked Hell's Gate pretty good, looks like they grabbed everything they could try and salvage or re-purpose during the monsoon."

"Which brings up a problem," Max chimed in, "It means that they aren't planning on using it as a base, which means we have no idea where they are."

"The people can find them." Jake stated confidently, "And when we find them, we'll drive them back to their dying world as we did before."

The tribe cheered at this, the warriors pumping their bows above their heads.

"You need to be careful Jake! They could be well prepared for a fight.. maybe they'll even be willing to talk?" Max spoke, slightly alarmed at this.

"Like they talked before?" Jake countered, anger evident in his tone, his tail thrashing behind him, "All they will do is destroy and take as they did before, we can't let them harm Eywa or the people." He frowned down at the pair of them, "After what happened last time, you two are the last ones I would expect to say that we should talk to them!"

He shook his head, "Jake, if you fight them people, both human and Na'vi, are going to die, if there is anyway to avoid fighting you should at _least_ consider it!"

Neytiri broke into the conversation, "And when they lie? As they lied before, both to each other and to us? Must I watch my son slain before me as I watched my sister and my father? No, friend Max, we cannot talk to them, not if they allow their insanity to continue, not if they harm Eywa."

Max tried a different tract, "Jake, you used to be a marine, fighting them in they open, wherever they have their landing site is going to be very different than fighting at the Tree of Souls."

The former marine frowned at that before nodding slowly his head, "It will be, but there are many other tribes nearby who also suffered at the hands of the RDA. We might not have the numbers for a full frontal assault, but we can make them pay for harming Eywa until the other clans can come to our aid."

"But what if it's not Sec-Ops? What if it's full blown marines like you used to be?"

Jake snorted at this, "The RDA had full control on Earth and everyone knew it. No, it will be those money-obsessed mercenaries again, and we'll rout them just as we did before. Thanks for the warning guys, we can take it from here. Try and keep your heads down eh?" he finished with a smile before turning back to his mate and speaking in rapid Na'vi.

He and Norm backed away, heading back to the small clearing. Before he could summon their friend on the radio though, several members of the Avatar team broke off from the tribe and walked over, all with worried looks on their faces.

"Is it true Max, the RDA is back?" one of them asked as soon as she was a few feet away.

He shook his head, "Humans are back, but we don't know if it's the RDA or not."

"Who else would it be?" another spoke up.

"Oh come on," a third countered, "Despite what Jake seems to think, the RDA wasn't _that_ much of a political powerhouse, and if our signal got back the public could have torn them apart. It's more likely it's one of the super-governments, like the EU or the NAU."

Before the debate could gain more steam, Max interrupted them, "It might or it might not be the RDA, but making any kind of conclusions or assumptions at this point is dangerous." he glanced at the assembled Na'vi, currently holding conference with Jake as Neytiri spoke to a ruffled, sleepy looking Mo'at.

"I want you guys to be careful if Jake sends any of you out scouting all right? I've lost enough friends for one lifetime."

"We will Max," a few of the murmured, serious looks on their almost human faces. Most departed then, but a few stayed, glancing around before crouching down to his height and leaning in.

Miguel spoke quietly and quickly, "Max, if they.. I mean, if we attack the humans right off the bat it could be bad. I remember the battle man, and it wasn't much like the singers here like to depict. They were stomping the people before Eywa intervened. I know Jake's been training the warriors and such, but still..."

John and Dana looked equally worried, their faces drawn as they glanced at the other avatars who had moved to join the rest of the tribe. It was Dana who finished the thought for Miguel, "But if they do a full on attack against dug-in humans with heavy weapons, even with a bunch of other tribes helping, it'll be a slaughter, not a battle."

Norm winced and spoke, unconsciously rubbing his chest as he did so, no doubt remembering the pain of that last battle, "Any chance you guys could try and talk to them about it?"

Miguel snorted, "Are you kidding? We're practically outcasts here because we still act like scientists instead of becoming full members of the tribe like we're supposed to."

"Dammit." Max murmured, "Do what you can guys. I don't want to see humans strip-mining Pandora anymore than the Na'vi do, but I don't want to see a war either. There has to be _something_ that can be used to negotiate."

"Like what?" Dana broke in, "Humans have nothing the Na'vi want, and they have everything the humans want. Not a good bargaining position man."

He sighed and signaled Katrina. "I'll try and think of something. Stay over here would ya? We have a few back-up radios in the Samson, I want you to call us as soon as something happens. I have the feeling that this is going to get bad real fast if we're not careful."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 12: Howling Wolves**

**Please Review!**


	14. Chapter 12: Howling Wolves

- insert witty disclaimer saying I don't own avatar here -

* * *

**Chapter 12: Howling Wolves**

**Date**: March 22nd, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site 02, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

_I know Hell's Gate wasn't that beautiful or anything, but Tartarus makes it look positively inspired,_ Parker thought to himself as he gazed at the partially finished base from his seat in one of the newly assembled Samsons.

Whereas Hell's Gate been almost uniformly dark in color, the concrete left that way and the metals blending in well with it, the buildings in Tartarus were a instead a glaringly bright gray, almost white. It was especially jarring when comparing the buildings to the strips of solid black asphalt being laid down for the various runways and landing zones, and the greenery surrounding the base. When he had asked the engineer captain about it, he had gotten "They're going to know we're here, and it's hot enough. The color will help reflect the heat and let the savages know we don't intend to hide from them."

He had to admit that the engineer's ideas were sound. It wouldn't be long before the locals realized that they were back, and making their presence as obvious as possible might enrage them into doing something stupid.

_Plus_, he thought, _it is a bit warm_. _Only took three years on Earth, dammit, I mean Terra to forget just how hot it gets here._

That the buildings were also being designed to be as fireproof as possible was an added bonus. Fire was really the only weapon the Na'vi had, apart from brute strength, that would actually damage most human buildings, so making them almost entirely out of concrete had that advantage going for them as well.

From the air, the base had the appearance of a five pointed star, with thick heavy bunkers in place at both the outer and inner 'points' of the star. Hastily erected guard towers covered the spaces in between, with the long-term towers and smaller bunkers only in place in a few locations along the line. Gaping pits and long trenches revealed the eventual locations of the primary buildings and the tunnels that would connect them, and a single long strip of black asphalt showed the only complete runway, a pair of Valkyries currently resting upon it. The entire southern half of the base was covered in what was being called the 'junkyard'. Eventually, the unobtanium refinery would be placed there, but until then, it was covered in the corpses of everything they had manage to haul from Hell's gate. Much of it had been torn apart to build the temporary towers or for use as make-shift walls or supports, but that still left a massive amount of scrap metal yet to be used.

Yawning, he leaned back in his seat as the Samson moved over 'junkyard' and gravel mine located a bare kilometers outside the southern perimeter before slowly banking towards the intended site of their new unobtanium mine. The dozers had only recently completed the two-mile path from the edge of the gravel mine to the larger mining site, and his miners had only just broken ground.

He watched the road and jungle pass by underneath of him, groaning as he noticed controlled chaos awaiting them on the ground ahead.

The Samson roared down to the ground, and even before it' skids touched the dirt two pairs of medics rushed up, and he barely got out of their way before they carefully moved two stretchers into the back of the Samson, one form very still, the other moaning quietly.

Parker winced at the sight, "Viperwolves again?"

One of the medics shook his head and spoke, his Russian accent very thick, "Hell wasps today."

Shuddering, Parker moved off towards the small shelter erected near their primary excavator. Nowhere near the size of the gargantuan one currently en route from home, it was still more than effective in its job, steadily crushing the soil as it dug.

"Administrator," the mining foreman, Bill Augustus was his name, nodded to him, "Good to see you."

"Augustus" he returned, "How are we doing? On schedule?"

"Ya, she's digging all right, haven't hit any snags yet." the other replied, bringing up the mining area on the small holo-table. "They're offloading the trucks today right? Need to start hauling some of this off or we're going to have to slow down."

"They were already working on it when I left," Parker assured him, "They'll be here by tonight."

"Good. Apart from that, everything good like I said. We're on schedule, and once they drop the second excavator down tomorrow, we might actually pull ahead a bit."

"Good. How has the security been? Kozlov doing his job?"

At this his foreman smiled, "Very good actually, pleasure to work for guys who are here for something other than money really, they actually _care_ about keeping us alive, not just the blackmarks on their paychecks for people dying on their watch."

"Ya. I've noticed that," Parker nodded and looked at the area, many of the soldiers in sight were digging at the soil with shovels, others carefully working on the small pits they'd already made. He frowned, "What the heck are they doing?"

"Digging foxholes," the foreman replied, "Had to ask it myself, they say it's for cover if the Na'vi attack."

His eyebrows rose, Sec-ops had never done anything like that, preferring instead to watch over things from the air or from the vehicles themselves. He remembered many an argument with Quaritch about the former, the amount of aviation fuel used for 'patrolling' had been ridiculous in his opinion.

He was about to comment on this when an arrow flew from the forest and ricocheted off the glass canopy on the excavator.

"_Bozhe moi!"_ he heard a nearby soldier curse, and that curse was immediately followed by another arrow narrowly missing the Russian who had said it as the man hurled himself into one of the foxholes.

Swearing, Parker and Augustus dropped to the ground as gunfire erupted all around them.

Oddly, it was then he realized another difference between the soldiers around him now, and the Sec-Ops he had worked with for far too long. They soldiers around him did not fire at full automatic like the previous soldiers had. The Russian men and women were firing in short, almost clipped bursts of fire in the direction of the arrows, shooting only after an arrow came winging from the woods, resulting in gunfire that rose and fell, instead of the constant roar he had expected.

An arrow flew inches over him and he scurried behind the holotable as quickly as he could, heart pounding in his chest. He scrambled for his headset, "Weigand! Weigand!" he screamed over the roar of battle around him. "We're under attack! The savages are fucking attacking us!"

"Parker! Get off the air! I know dammit!" the _Oberst _bellowed in return, cutting the channel before Parker could say anything else.

Swearing again, he curled up as best he could behind the table with Bill, who was shaking nearly as badly as he was, and waited for it to end.

Perhaps a year later, the gunfire quieted, then stopped. Glancing at his watch, he frowned, _Five minutes! No way, no way in hell_.

Cautiously standing, he saw several soldiers moving carefully into the woods, covering one another. One form was very still in a foxhole, an arrow embedded in the soldier's chest. Another two had been hit, both had shoved needles into their own chests to administer the anti-venom for the toxins covering the arrows.

He heard a roar of noise and looked up as a trio of fully armed Samsons swooped in, one hovering over the excavator, another moving to land, and the last slowly moving over the woods the soldiers had entered.

"Oh man. Oh man." Augustus was murmuring to himself, eyes locked on the soldier who had died. He was not in much better shape, he forced his shaking hands to straighten his mud splattered tie, and fought to stand reasonably straight as medics leaped from the landed Samson and raced to the two wounded men.

One of the soldiers emerged from the foliage, spotted Parker, and strode quickly over to him. "Two Na'vi, and one Avatar. One of the Na'vi and the Avatar are dead."

"And the other?" Parker asked, voice rough.

A single gunshot split the air, causing Parker to jump.

"Also dead." the grim faced soldier replied, gazing at the body still in its foxhole and at the two men the medics were frantically working on.

He stared blankly at the soldier, who returned it evenly, before shuddering and nodding.

The man continued, "We think it was the avatar that took those shots at you Administrator," he nodded to the arrow that had almost hit him, and to another two embedded in the holo table he had not even noticed. "The arrows are the same style."

He shuddered, a savage had been trying to kill _him_ in particular. But _why_? He had not done anyth... "Wait." his brain caught up with what the soldier had told him, "An avatar? How the hell is one of them an avatar? We haven't picked up any control signals!"

The other shrugged, and moved back into the jungle without answering. Parker blinked at his exit and fumed quietly, helping his foreman sit down slowly and he was about to call Weigand again when the soldier and another emerged, grunting and straining to drag a large, limp blue form between them.

He blanched when they dropped it in front of him. "Avatar." the soldier grunted, before turning as another Samson arrived, _Kapitan_ Kozlov and _Oberst_ Weigand visible within, and trotting over to it.

The corpse's eyes were still open, staring at the sky. The wound that had killed it was immediately visible as a bloody hole just below it's left eye, and he did _not_ want to see what the back of its head looked like. But the features were more human than Na'vi. And a glance at his hands revealed five fingers, not four.

"Well, this is an intriguing mystery, no?" Weigand had arrived, and now stood next to him, also gazing down at the corpse. "They must have found some way to permanently transfer their consciousness to their avatars."

Parker nodded, then raced to the back of the small shack and heaved out everything he had eaten that morning. The German colonel remained quiet as he slowly made his way back, before nodding to the Samson he had arrived in. "Let's get you out of here Administrator, I don't think you're quite suited to this kind of thing."

* * *

**Date**: March 23rd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

It had taken the better part of twenty-four hours, and some very strong sleeping pills, before Parker felt well enough to agree to a meeting with Weigand and Thomes, the latter having flown down after the short fight.

Seated at a table in their make-shift ops center, Parker listened as Kozlov spoke over the radio.

"The tribe members bear markings that Augustine's old reports label as _Omaticaya_. Probably were a scouting party looking for us. If I had to guess, someone either noticed a Valkyrie or stopped by Hell's Gate for something."

Thomes spoke up, pushing a golden lock out of her face as she did. "Either way, it means they know we're here. And it also seems perfectly clear that they don't intend to negotiate with us."

Weigand frowned and nodded, "_Ja und nein._ I think it was less a premeditated attack than it was an attack of opportunity on _Herr_ Selfridge's life. The Avatar most likely recognized him and then was able to convince the two natives with him to attack, no doubt by telling them some story or another."

He shuddered, being reminded that the attack had most likely been to try and kill him personally was something he did not like at all. "Those hippies wouldn't have much reason to like me," he admitted, "but to try and kill me?"

"With Quaritch already dead, you're next in line of their people to hate Parker," the blonde captain said, leaning back, "I'd stay in the base if I were you."

Grimacing, he nodded, "I probably will."

The _Oberst_nodded, "If you do need to head to the mining site again, I'll have an AMP team escort you. Now, back to the subject at hand. If we're right, this was most likely a scouting party, sent to attempt to discover our location. If the natives have any brains at all, they'll have sent numerous parties out to specific areas, and when those three don't report back..."

"They'll know we're in this area." Parker finished for him.

"Yes indeed." he pushed a button on the communications set, "Jones? Can you read me?"

"Five by five sir." the American's voice responded.

"Cease all work on the interior buildings for now, we need the perimeter defense up immediately."

"On it _Oberst_."

"Kozlov?"

"Sir?"

"I want AMP suits on lookout at the mining site 24/7 now, and make sure they have covered positions as well."

"At once."

Weigand turned and looked at Thomes, "Captain, I need constant satellite reports. If the natives mass for an attack, we need to know about it. Administrator," he turned to Parker, "make sure to keep your people's spirits up about the attack. Remind them that we're here to protect them or die trying."

He grimaced and nodded, before being compelled to ask, "Did the two wounded men make it?"

His superior blinked before nodding, "Both are badly hurt but survived. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged slightly, "Curious. And the miners will want to know." he added hastily, seeing Weigand peering at him in a piercing manner.

The German let a small smile twitch across his face before nodding and letting it go. "Let's get back to work people. We can't fall apart just because three _schweine_ got pissed at us."

* * *

**Date**: March 26th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Two days without any additional sightings of the Na'vi felt almost anti-climactic after the rush to complete everything after the fight. A few viperwolfs had tried to attack an AMP suit patrol, and were promptly killed then cooked for their efforts, and a few Tapirus had been killed at the mining site and brought back for dinner, but life on the death-world had been almost.. quiet.

Parker sighed and signed off on a report from Augustus, brought up one from Mining Site 01, the gravel mine, and glanced over it. Both mines were actually a bit ahead of schedule, with a small pile of excavated stone containing precious unobtanium waiting for the refining equipment to land, and Captain Jones was ecstatic that he had additional concrete to utilize.

They had finished the main defenses that afternoon, and Jones had announced that he and his men were moving on to the Ops Center and an elevated landing pad for their small Samson fleet next.

Yawning and tossing the report aside, he rose and grabbed his exopack before heading out of the prefab building that he had been sharing with his two mining foremen. The base was abuzz with activity even as the sky darkened. Not that it would get terribly dark this time of year, something he had already heard an earful from the non-veteran miners. It had been disconcerting for them to realize that it would never get darker than a Terran dusk, and he had had to give a minor speech on it and on several other changes the others would have to get used to.

Wandering over to the Valkyrie that was currently donating its interior to be a cafeteria, he headed in through a small airlock rigged to its side. After letting the air cycle, he moved down into the ship to get some food.

After grabbing some of the leftover Tapirus meat along with some truly horrible canned peas, he noticed that Weigand was also present and the _Oberst_ waved him over, "_Guten abend_ _herr _Selfridge"

"Afternoon _Oberst_" he replied, sitting and beginning to slowly eat. The two made small talk as they ate, mostly about the progress of the miners as well as the imminent departure date of the fleet.

"Bradley says they aim to leave by April 2nd," Weigand was saying, "and the latest from Terra has the _Comet's Lament_due to arrive in late August with your new excavator."

"We'll definitely have the unobtanium to fill her hold to the brink by then," Parker assured him, and the talk shifted to the minor events around the base before the two finished eating and made their way back out into the base proper.

The two began to make their way over the barely begun ops building to speak to Jones when Weigand stopped and frowned. Continuing on a few steps, Parker blinked and turn to look at him.

"Weigand? What is it?"

The _Oberst _ frowned, before glancing over at Jones in the distance, who had suddenly put his hand to his headset. A cold feeling in his gut, Parker moved over towards the engineer as calmly as he could, Weigand moving quickly into step beside him. The wind picked up a bit and Parker thought he could hear eerie singing being carried by it. Both men glanced at each other, then broke into a run.

Jones' head whipped up as he heard them approach, "_Oberst!_ Administrator, sentries on the east side say they can hear something, sounds like war chants and singing. Think it's psychological warfare." The captain turned to the east, shouting in his mic for his crews to stop working, and all three remained still as everything went quiet.

He could definitely hear it now, and it was just as assuredly a Na'vi warchant, he remembered Augustine playing it on her computers once, and the cold in his gut spread up through his chest and limbs.

"Captain! Reinforce the East side, Administrator, get into the Ops prefab and do _not_ leave it." Weigand snapped before activating his mic, "Get my AMP armed and loaded _now_, _macht schnell!_"

Parker had already turned and run as fast as he could into the Ops Center as the base exploded into activity. He heard several sharp bangs and light suddenly flooded the jungle just beyond the eastern bunkers, turning and stopping, he saw flares slowly falling. The Na'vi war chant suddenly increased in volume and he could hear individual war cries breaking up the song's pattern now.

He heard Jones bellow something that he could not make out, but just as suddenly the American engineers manning the defenses started howling in challenge to the savages, and amongst the natives eerie screams and the human's howling wolf calls, arrows suddenly began to soar through the air and gunfire erupted as the battle was joined.

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**Next up is Chapter 13: Hell Descending**

And a there's a fun ending for a chapter ain't it :) ? First major battle of the story coming up!

Seriously though, I loved writing this one, hope you all enjoy it. I'm off to bed. I should be able to get another one out tomorrow before work, and probably another one after or on Sunday morning.

**Remember, review! I like reviews, they make me want to write more.**


	15. Chapter 13: Hell Descending

- insert witty disclaimer saying I don't own avatar here -

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**Chapter 13: Hell Descending**

**Date**: March 25th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"It's getting crazy over here Max. One of the patrols Jake sent out didn't come back, and the tribe is on edge over that. Everyone's assuming the humans killed them." Miguels voice filled the shack as he reported on current events for them.

"That's not an unreasonable assumption to make." Norm pointed out from his place on a cot.

"Yeah man I know, but it's reminding me way too much of the last days of Hell's Gate." Miguel replied, "All the warriors and hunters are arming up, I think they're going to try and stage a raid of some kind, Jake's trying to get everyone psyched up for some kind of guerrilla war."

Max shook his head, "They've made no thoughts at all about trying to talk or negotiate?"

"The only kind of negotiating Jake wants to do is the kind where he convinces the other clans to help out. They've already sent messengers." There was a short pause, followed by a panicked, "Oh shit man, gotta go."

And with that, the link died.

Max let out a long groan, rubbing his face with his hands.

Katrina chuckled darkly from her leaning spot next to the airlock, "Welcome back to Pandora, here's an arrow to the face."

Both of the men snorted, shaking their heads, though it was Max who spoke "What are we going to do about it though? Jake's hell bent on fighting, as is Neytiri. Mo'at doesn't like to deal with us, and except for our three scientists over there, the rest of the Avatar team would rather be Na'vi."

Norm shook his head, "I miss the old days man. When it was just us against the RDA, the Na'vi trusted us and listened to our opinions and everyone was united."

"So do I" Max and Katrina replied simultaneously, and all three of them smiled quietly.

"We have to think of _something_ though." their gangly friend continued, "There must be something we can do to stop everyone from killing each other. I mean.. I know it might come down to that no matter what, but we have to try don't we?"

"Yeah, we do." he sighed and rubbed his forehead. _There has to be something! Come on Max, use that Phd brain for something!_ He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. _Wait.._

"Wait. We're over-thinking this. Why don't we just call them?" he said, blinking.

The other two stared at him.

"Huh?" Norm wittily replied.

He stared back at him, "They're humans, they'll have radios. By coincidence, we are humans, and we have a radio. Why don't we just call them and find out what's going on?"

Katrina opened her mouth, closed it, frowned, thought for a minute and the opened it again, "But wouldn't that reveal where we were? I mean, if they could detect where we're transmitting from?"

He frowned, "Probably. What if we fly to Hell's Gate and radio from there? Or set up something to bounce our signal from here to there?"

"I think the latter is our best bet... they've probably taken over the old satellite system by now, so they could probably just follow the Samson if we transmit from it. But if we stay low and scoot over there, set up a transceiver.. we could probably do that tomorrow and call them up tomorrow night when we got back. It'll take tonight to get everything setup anyway."

Max thought about it for a moment and nodded, "That should work out, let's get started."

* * *

**Date**: March 26th, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"For the record," a sweating and shaking Katrina spoke as they settled down next to the old Ops Center. "Dodging an angry _Toruk _while flying at tree top level is _not_ fun."

His own heart beating a bit too fast, Max had to agree with her. The massive beast had attacked them shortly after taking off, and if not for some creative flying on Katrina's part, along with a few warning shots nicking the beast's crest, they could very well have gone down.

Carefully working with Norm to offload the equipment, they got to work quickly, hooking the equipment as quickly as they could, Katrina carefully watching the darkening skies as they worked. Less than an hour later, their jury-rigged transceiver was in place, nestled neatly next to the old building, and they quickly piled back into the Samson, looking worriedly at the sky.

They had flown in the darkness before, but they certainly had never enjoyed it, and that hungry _Toruk_ might be looking for round two. Flying as carefully as she could considering the fact that she refused to slow down, their pilot hauled them back to their small camp as fast as their aged metal bird allowed.

"So what are we going to say?" Norm spoke up, watching the trees blur by beneath them.

"I have no idea." Max admitted, "I was thinking of offering some the data we and the others have been working on in exchange for some kind of limit on mining."

Katrina's voice chimed in, "They probably won't go for that Max."

He sighed, "I know, but we have to try right? Maybe get them to limit themselves to the old mining site? Or to only have one mine running at a time?" he ran a hand through his hair.

"The Na'vi wouldn't like either one of those though." Normed pointed out, "And there's another problem. We might, we _might_ get them to limit the mining, but any mining at all is going to cause Jake and the others to flip out."

"I know Norm, I know." he banged the back of his head against the metal of the Samson. "But if we can get the humans to at least sit down and talk with us, maybe we can find something to appease both sides."

Even as they spoke, they arrived over their camp, the Samson slowly tilting as it banked in and then settled down on the grass. Stepping out and sighing, Max and Norm made their way inside as Katrina ran a post-flight checklist.

Stripping their exopacks, the two paused to eat before beginning to configure the system. It was dark by the time they were finished, and Katrina had joined them.

Glancing at the other two, Max grimaced, feeling like a man about to stick his hand intentionally into a fire, and activated it, "This is Doctor Max Patel calling any human who can pick this up, please respond."

Silence and static answered him. He repeated himself, two more times, about a minute between the repetition, before the very _last_ voice he had ever expect to hear again came across the radio.

"Patel? What the hell!"

His jaw dropped, "Selfridge, what the fuck?" he blinked as heard more noise, "Is that _gunfire_?"

"Of course it is you damned hippie! Your blue-skinned savage friends are doing their best to kill us!"

Max saw Norm go pale and wince, and heard Katrina's small groan, "Did you provoke them?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Provoke them! They tried to _assassinate_ me three days ago!" the executive howled at them, "Now get the fuck off the air! Call us in the morning if we're still alive!" Something in the background exploded and the signal cut out.

He winced and turned in his seat to look at the other two. "Well, that didn't go as I was hoping it would."

"Not shit." Katrina shook her head, "What can we do about this?"

"Nothing" Norm said, his voice quiet. "We don't know where they are, and even if we did, three scientists and a Samson with only one gun can't stop a fight that's already started. We just have to hope that Miguel was right, and it is just a raid, not a full blown assault."

Max rose and reached under his cot, pulling out their last bottle of whiskey. Norm stared at it for a moment before rising and grabbing three glasses. He poured and all three took their small cups and downed them.

A few drinks later, he spoke into the awkward silence. "Really think they would have tried to assassinate Selfridge? Or is he just being a drama queen?"

"Well.. Miguel said there was one of the Avatars with the scouting party, if he saw him, and told the Na'vi who he was.." Norm let his voice trail off.

Katrina swore softly, "And if they already started mining operations, there might be nothing that we can do to stop it from becoming a full blown war."

He shook his head, "I refuse to accept that. It might happen, I won't deny it, but it's our duty to try and stop it from reaching that point. That's what we decided last time, all of us. There might be only three of us now, six, if you include Miguel and the others, but we have to live up to that promise."

Smiling slightly, Norm spoke up, "We swore to do as our conscious' dictated, that we would do the right thing. And now, doing the right thing could get us wanted by both the humans and the na'vi."

He smiled at his friend, "You_ did_ always want to be the hero Norm, here's our chance."

Katrina laughed, the slightest bit of drunken hysteria to it, and raised her glass, "Here's to our chances of dying while trying to be big damn heroes."

The two men laughed, and all three drank.

* * *

**Next up: Chapter 14: Midnight Duel**

I know, bit short compared to the last two, I'll make it up to you with pure awesome in the battle in the next chapter, I promise.

Also, I have to say i'm pleased with the positive responses to my first ever fanfic, so thanks going out to everyone who's been reading, and bonus points for everyone who has reviewed!

* * *

**Review Responses:**

mindteller: I have read it, and it wasn't bad, but it's a bit too vague for my liking. It's missing a "Why he did it" beyond "it was the right thing to do". Glad to see you're still enjoying my tale though. Expected a massive argument/debate to occur between human and na'vi on that subject in a few chapters :)

a siting duk: Glad to see you liked that bit. It always amazes me that people don't realize just how significant human endurance is and I felt it would be a good point to bring up, that there _is_ something that humans are naturally better than na'vi at.


	16. Chapter 14: Midnight Duel

Don't know why I keep saying this, since it's perfectly obvious that I don't own Avatar.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Midnight Duel**

**Date**: March 26th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"_Let's get you out of here Administrator, I don't think you're quite suited to this kind of thing._" Weigand's previous words echoed in Parker's head even as his shaking finger slammed down on the disconnect button, cutting off Patel and his groupies.

He had _thought_ that the fight he had been trapped in earlier had been as horrible as it was going to get, but this cursed planet was doing everything it could to prove him wrong. It was made worse by the fact that it was nothing like he had imagined it would be, like the movies showed. There was no massive charge, the natives rushing at them, no humans leading brave counter-attacks. It was like a sinister game of hide and seek in the dark, arrows whistling in from the forest followed by short barks of gunfire in one area, then silence as both sides tried to see the other, before a short fight would break out in a different portion of their line.

From what the holotable showed, the bunkers and trenches were insulating the American engineers from the worst of the Na'vi attacks, but they had no idea how many Na'vi they had killed, if any, since they would not enter the clearing around the base. Flares were occasionally fired into the sky to improve the light in areas, and were then usually followed by a sudden roar as they concentrated fire on suddenly visible savages.

What seemed like an eternity passed, but a glance at the clock on the holo revealed it to have only been ten minutes, before a dozen AMP suits raced out from the Valkyrie they had been stored in, the computer marking Weigand's as the one in the lead. Carefully slowing to stops behind the eastern perimeter, their heavier weapons roared as they carefully supported the tiny men before them.

For a few moments, Parker thought that their arrival was the end of the battle, the native's attack slackening as they watched arrows simply rebound off the heavy exoskeletons.

He had been about to turn to the communications officer to ask her to open a channel to Weigand, to ask him if he was going to pursue with the AMP suits and put the Samsons in the air, when the cries of banshees ripped the air, and something that sounded like a pot shattered on the roof.

Fire alarms screamed to life and the temperature suddenly rose by a dozen degrees. Everyone scrambled out of the building as fast as they could, some only putting on their exopacks after they realized that they were outside.

Parker turned and stared, his heart pounding. The top of the Ops Center was covered in what looked like a tar substance that was aflame. A shadow passed over his head, he dropped to the ground with a scream, the soldiers around him doing the same, minus the scream.

The banshee and its rider banked hard to the right, and he had a perfect view as the rider threw what looked a like a pot with a small flame attached onto the top of one of the bunkers, which immediately burst into flames. He couldn't see the entrance from where he was, but part of him prayed that the engineers inside got out before the heat killed them. The concrete building itself would easily survive, but the fire could still quite easily kill the much more vulnerable humans inside.

Fires were breaking out left and right now, as more banshees and their riders swooped in, flying what looked like mere centimeters above the ground, and tossed their primitive Molotovs. Several of the AMP suits broke off from their positions and moved back into the base, one planting itself just a few meters from Parker and opening fire at the airborne attackers.

The savages, though, were not sticking around any longer than they had to, and were flying out of the area as fast as they could. Fortunately for the humans, bullets flew faster than Banshees, and Parker was sure that at least a dozen must have been hacked from the sky as they tried to flee. The sparks of gunfire from the north-western perimeter and the sight of two late-arriving riders being shot out of the sky by the defensive towers was highlighted against newly falling flares.

One of the banshees slammed into the ground near him, screaming in agony from a series of heavy wounds that had torn its left wings to pieces, its rider howling, trapped beneath her mount. The nearby AMP suit moved over with what seemed a terrible casualness, standing over both for a mere moment, before raising its right foot and slamming it down on the banshees neck. Parker felt his gorge rise at the horrible crash and cracking that followed, and the creature went still.

He _did_ vomit, moments later, when he heard a horrible, animal screaming and made this mistake of looking to his left. Someone had just come out of one of the burning prefabs, and it was obvious that they had been hit directly by the burning tar. All he could see was the fire, blackened muscles, and a horribly melted face screaming in agony. The communications officer, tears in her eyes, took two steps over to him, raised her pistol at point blank range, and put two rounds into his head.

The horribly disfigured human collapsed instantly. Parker could not even tell if the charred, twitching mass had been a soldier or one of his miners, or even if it had been a man or woman.

The AMP pilot had also turned to look, and had swiftly whipped back to the trapped Na'vi woman. Setting its heavy weapon aside, it reached down, seized her in one of its massive hands, razed her up off the ground, ignoring her screams, and then simply squeezed.

He vomited again as he watched blood and gore explode from the savage's mouth, and the horrendous cracking as the native's rib cage compressed, and then shattered under the force of the AMP suit's hand. She went rag-doll limp mid-scream, and the AMP simply tossed her body to the side. Her chest had been crushed to maybe half of its original diameter.

The fighting continued on the perimeter for several more minutes, but he was too far gone to truely notice after what he had witnessed. The communications officer and two of the other staff soldiers helped him move over to one of the Valkyries, carefully setting him down beside it. After sitting, he belatedly realized how hard it had been to simply remain standing.

Time blurred for a while, as aftermath replaced battle. The Samsons were airborne, and the AMP suits were carefully advancing into the jungle to look for any remaining Na'vi, alive or dead.

Engineers were sprinting left and right, conscripting miners to try and put out the fires. Screams for medics and the racing red-cross soldiers added to the chaos.

_Was this what it was like fifteen years ago?_ He wondered, idly noticing his own detachment to what was happening. _Was this what happened when Quaritch and Sec-Ops flew to their deaths?_

A pair of medics raced by, carrying a badly burned man on their stretcher. He was still alive, clutching his horribly burned left arm, and screaming.

He was vaguely aware of everything going dark as the smell of burned flesh reached his nose, and he idly contemplated forswearing meat forever before he felt his head hit the ground.

* * *

**Date**: March 27th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Carefully holding an icepack to the left side of his head, Parker listened as Weigand summarized the results of the fight. "We lost nine men overall, five to the fire, four to native arrows. Maybe two-dozen more are wounded, we're transferring them up to the _Dream_for care, but the medics assure them that most will make it."

"And the natives?" Thomes spoke up, her face haggered. She had been awoken in the middle of the night by the reports of battle and had flown down immediately.

"We killed eleven of their banshee riders, but as for the jungle, we can only guess. They took their dead back with them, but there was quite a bit of blood in the area. Our estimate is at least twenty or thirty killed or wounded."

Parker's eyebrows rose, "The blue monkey's clans aren't all that big. Those are crippling numbers."

The _Oberst_'s teeth showed, "Yes, they are. Their Molotov's were a surprise, probably something that Sully taught them to make, but we're pretty sure that this was intended to be a raid, something to hamper and hurt us. I don't think they were expecting to find us already dug in, and judging from the amount of arrows they bounced off the bunkers, they had no idea how to deal with it."

"Sully has definitely been training them though." Jones spoke up, his right arm covered in bandages from burns he'd sustained helping to fight the fires. He had refused to accompany the other wounded to the _Dream_, instead opting to remain behind for the briefing and head up with Thomes after. Parker thought his tone of voice was.. odd. "They were staying back as far as they could and still expect to hit us, and they scattered as soon as we launched the star shells. Compare to the mass-charges when they fought Sec-Ops at the Tree of Souls, they've definitely improved."

He carefully responded at this, "Yeah, the savages are better fighters now, but losing forty people? I mean, they're not like us, where the soldiers fight and that's it. That's forty less people hunting for them, even if some of them are only wounded. And even if it is Sully whose been training them, and if he's still alive, he's probably only trained his girlfriend's people."

Thomes picked up on his train of thought, "And they've just lost a large number of what are basically combat veterans."

"Meaning that they're going to have to try and call on other tribes for help, but those other tribes will fight like they did before." Weigand nodded slowly as he spoke.

The American captain snarled, "We'll murder them if they charge us."

Everyone blinked and stared at the normally placid engineer.

"I watched three of my men burn to death because of those _things_. Mercy isn't going to be high on our list when we meet again."he continued, voice still carrying a thick undertone of rage. He held up his unburned hand at the warning look Weigand was giving him, "We're not going to go rogue or berserk or anything sir, but any thoughts of feeling sorry for the blue-skins died when my men saw their friends screaming faces."

Parker felt his stomach rise again and forced it back down, the memories of the night far too clear for his liking. _I used to have that stash of whiskey in my office. Dammit, I should have brought some whiskey_. Being drunk would definitely be a boon right now.

Unfortunately, booze did not simply appear, and the meeting continued on. _Is it a meeting? Or a briefing? Or a debriefing? Post-battle summit? Dammit, need to learn those military terms_.

"Our primary concern now that the wounded have been cared for must be the repair of the buildings lost to the fire and to the eastern bunkers." Weigand continued to speak while Parker mused on his limited grasp of military terminology.

"The bunkers themselves are fine, we just replacement emplacement guns for the ones that were melted." Jones spoke up, "The bigger problem will be the lost pre-fabs, we don't have spares. We'll have to camp it, and speed up our construction of the main buildings as best we can. If we conscript some of the miners from the gravel mine, I think we can get the Ops center and apartments done by next week, but it'll cost us. It'll mean less concrete overall, and the armory block and refinery foundation will be delayed."

"_Keine andere Wahl_" The _Oberst_replied, "We need those buildings, especially the ops center, active as soon as possible. Administrator, I need your best mining crews assigned to the gravel mine, we need to keep the production up as best we can."

"What about the natives though?" he pressed, "I mean, beaten or not they could still try and attack the mines, they're not as well defended as here."

"I'm going to give Kozlov all but one of our AMP teams," the older man reassured him. "And we'll have three Samsons on stand-by at all times."

Frowning, then nodding, Parker assented. "What about that call from the Avatar team, did Patel call back this morning?"

"Yes, but we were quite busy at the time, and I informed him that I would contact him on the same frequency on the 30th. He was less than happy at having to wait, and that I refused to give him details about the battle" Weigand responded, "I did tell him that we were a United Nations Expeditionary force working with the RDA's veteran mining team to ensure the supply of unobtanium to home. He didn't seem as surprised as I would have thought at that."

Shaking his head, Parker spoke "Patel was always the brains behind the Avatar team. He didn't let his emotions run wild like Augustine and her cronies did. Always was prepared, always had a response. Working with him was always more efficient than going through Augustine when I could arrange it."

The German's eyes narrowed, "I wonder what his angle is here... and how he survived so long without an Avatar..." he murmured, "We'll find out in a few days. As it is, we need to begin planning funerary services."

* * *

**Date**: March 28th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

They laid the dead to rest the next day. Nine piles of cut deadwood had been carefully arranged, then soaked in ignition fluids. The bodies were carefully positioned atop them, the flags of their home nations covering them. Four star spangled banners, four maple leaves, and a single Russian tricolor fluttered slightly.

Everyone who wasn't on active duty was present. Weigand had finished speaking, and a bagpipe played a mournful tune from inside on of the remaining prefabs, the speakers carrying the sound of the player within. A slow drum beat accompanied it, and one of the female soldiers was singing in what sounded like Welsh as the biers were carefully lit aflame.

The flames rose instantly, consuming wood and flesh and cloth. Parker stared at the flames, remaining as Weigand dismissed everyone. Several other soldiers remained, and he knew they would stay for the hours required for the fire to slowly die down, waiting to collect the ashes.

The _Oberst_ jogged his elbow lightly, and frowning, Parker turned and followed him. The haunting melody and the sight of fire still lingering with him.

He followed the older man into the cafeteria Valkyrie, which had already been nicknamed 'Valhalla' by Adler and his Germans, and the two sat in silence. The three captains were also present, Kozlov and Adler sitting across from Jones.

Glancing at his superior, Kozlov rose and took two more glasses from the rack, pulled a bottle of clear liquid from his pack on the floor, and poured for them.

"Vodka. Real Russian vodka, not that fake stuff." he said as he passed it to them.

Parker grabbed it and downed it immediately. The burn of the alcohol a pleasant distraction from reality. The five sat in silence, drinking occasionally for a quarter of an hour.

"You know," it was the habitually quiet Adler who spoke, "I did not truly believe that this planet was a death world until I came here. It always looked so beautiful in the reports. But everything here loathes us _ja_? The natives, the birds, the beasts. Even the insects attack us."

He took a drink and spoke, voice rough, "It's only a paradise to those blue-skinned freaks out there, and don't let anyone tell you different. This is a planet that refuses to accept us and always will."

Weigand stared into his own cup, his accent far thicker than normal. "I argued very strongly against bringing any space-borne weapons with, or any weapons of mass destruction. But now.. I still think that those are things that we should be above using, but it would be nice to have one with, as a threat if nothing else."

Jones spoke, "Deterrent. The Avatars would understand, even if the blue-skins wouldn't."

Adler raised his voice again, "And there is still the worry about that animal attack that happened to Quaritch. What the hell caused that, and could it happen again? We have some heavy weapons to deal with Thanators or Hammerheads, but if we're attacked by a stampede of them?"

"That's what the trenches and bunkers are for," his American companion assured him, "And the interior buildings will have the 40mm cannons with AP rounds to deal with that."

Parker interrupted them, "But what if we have to attack? Can you bring those bigger guns with?"

The silence and glances weren't reassuring. "We have some missile pods that we can equip the Samsons with, as long as we don't go into the Vortex we can use those."

He frowned, "Why can't you just mount the bigger guns on the Samsons?"

"Recoil," Adler replied, shaking his head, "Would be almost impossible to aim and could shake it apart it we mounted it on the side."

Parker frowned a bit more, thinking, "Why not a Valkyrie? I mean, some of them are going to be left behind anyway for us to use in deuterium harvesting right?"

"No." Adler shook his head, but frowned as he did so.

"Why not? I mean, don't some armies on Ear-, I mean Terra, mount those big guns on cargo planes?" He vaguely remembered such a concept from one of Quaritch's drunken ramblings about 'the good old days'.

Jones suddenly laughed, "Turn a Valkyrie into a gunship! Why the fuck didn't we think of that before." The previously taciturn man leaped to his feet, a bit unsteadily. "I'm going to go draw up plans right now!" He moved quickly, and quite wobbly, up and out of the ship. The four other men glanced at each other, before Adler and Kozlov quickly rose to follow him.

Weigand chuckled and finished off his drink, "Direction. Good."

Parker blinked at him, "Direction?"

The other man nodded, "Base is hurting from the fight, and the weeks of constant attacks by the fauna. Everyone here wanted to come, be heroes for humanity. All are soldiers, but deep down didn't really think that we'd be dying as we did it. The media's presentation of Pandora as a garden paradise is something most expected, even after hearing the reports from your Sec-Ops. It has been jarring to them."

He winced. "Yeah. The first miners here had something similar happen. It was before my time, but there were all kinds of problems, and we lost a lot of people, before we regained our feet."

The _Oberst_ rose, "Direction, purpose of action is what we need now.. You gave that to Jones, was a good thing to do even if you didn't realize you were doing it. Thomes has had a few ideas too, though hers are a bit more play than work. Both are good though. Come, you should sleep. Tomorrow and it's perils will come too soon."

* * *

**Next Chapter 15: Forlorn Hope**

And here's the battle and the aftermath at Tartarus. I liked doing the fight from a non-combatants point of view, hope you enjoy Selfridge's reaction to being in the middle of a merciless battle. Next up will be Max trying to get everyone to sit down and talk like civilized beings instead of trying to murder one another, I'll let you guess how that's going to go.

**Review review, a thousand times review!**


	17. Chapter 15: Forlorn Hope

I. Don't. Own. Avatar. How is this not clear by now?

* * *

**Chapter 15: Forlorn Hope**

**Date**: March 30th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The last several days had been tense for the three lone humans. None of the avatars had been responding to their calls, and they had heard nothing from the new arrivals since the Germanic colonel had told them to call back later.

"How bad do you think the fight was?" Norm asked quietly, all of them once more all in Max's shack as they waited for the appointed time to call up the new humans.

"No idea." Max breathed, shaking his head "If it was really bad, they might have had us call back even later than a few days, so I don't think it was that pitched of a battle. But that's just from their point of view, who knows what's going on with the _Omaticaya_."

Katrina winced, no doubt remembering the casualties from both the attack on the home tree and the titanic battle that had followed days later, "I did some math after the last time," she said very quietly, "And for every human that went down, a dozen Na'vi died or were wounded. And the Na'vi _won_ that fight."

It was Max's turn to wince, "The Na'vi didn't win that fight Katrina, Eywa did. Without her, the bombers would have made it, and everything would be different. But remember, Jake is _Olo'eyktan_ now, and Miguel said he was training everyone over the years, that should help quite a bit."

"And if it was just a raid," Norm chimed in, trying to keep the mood up, "They wouldn't have stuck around to fight. Maybe set some stuff on fire, fire some arrows, run away."

"I hope so," was all Katrina said, and the three lapsed into silence once more.

The computer chimed, and all three glanced at it as Miguel's voice sounded, "Max? Norm? Katrina? You read me?"

Max leaned over and activated the microphone, "We hear you Miguel! What's going on?"

"Shit man, it's gone to shit. They, I mean we, raided the new human encampment two days ago. Jake had everyone pumped up, we had those molotov jars he figured out how to make, seemed like a good plan, then everything just went to shit. I mean seriously to _shit_ man!"

"Miguel!" Max snapped, "Calm down man, be calm, and tell us what happened there!"

They heard an explosive sigh, and in a forced calm sort of tone, their Avatar friend continued, "They were already dug in Max, concrete bunkers, freaking trench-lines, the works. I was with the distraction team, we were supposed to lure them out into the jungle but they wouldn't leave their damn positions. We did manage to keep their intention enough for Neytiri to lead the _ikran'makto_ in and start torching things, but they hacked half of her riders from the sky after they did it. She made it out all right, but two of the older kids disobeyed Jake and tried to follow them in. They.. they got shot to pieces man."

Everyone grimaced, "Was Tsu'tey one of them?"

"No, he hasn't bonded to an _ikran_ yet. He did try to follow us on the ground Jake caught him and had Dana take him back. We lost a lot of people though Max, eighteen of the hunters are dead, and we've got better than two-dozen wounded over here."

Max slammed his fist down on the table, "Dammit, I _told_ Jake this would happen. And it's not the damn RDA either."

A startled silence followed, "What? Who are they then? How do you know?"

Massaging his temples, he continued, "We tried to contact them during the battle, to try and set up negotiations of some form. We didn't know it was happening and they blew us off. Called back the next day and talked to some German guy who said that it's a UN expeditionary force, and to call back tonight after they finish repairs and burying their own dead."

Miguel swore, "That explains the discipline then, and the defenses." He swore again, "Max, _don't_ let the others know you're trying to talk to them. Everyone is fighting mad over-here, and if they here you're talking with the enemy.."

"I know Miguel, I know. But from the sounds of it one battle was bad enough, the _Omaticaya_ can't take more losses like that, we _have_ to at least try and talk."

"Shiiiiit." they heard a sigh, "I can't bring that up to Jake or Neytiri man, neither one wants to back down. Maybe Mo'at will listen, I think she's getting sick of fighting and death, but I don't know. I'll try, but I can't make any promises over here. I'll try and call back in a few days, but no promises on that either."

The link went dead and Max leaned heavily back in his chair. _Eighteen dead. More than twenty-four wounded. The clan only had about sixty hunters and warriors overall, one fight and a third of their strength is dead, and another third is unable to fight for who knows how long_.

Katrina had clearly done the mental math as well, and she shook her head, looking grim, "Too many dead... another fight like that and it could destroy the _Omaticaya_, they just won't have the population to survive on their own. They'd have to merge with another tribe."

"Think there's any chance of Jake calming down and talking?" Norm asked quietly.

He sighed and thought it over, "Maybe. Maybe once he realizes that it's not the RDA, that maybe talking will be able to do something. He's going to be pissed about losing people, but hopefully he'll be realistic enough to realize that another fight is the last thing his clan needs right now."

"But what if he calls on Eywa again? And the other clans? If he calls as _toruk'makto_, they'll answer and we'll have another huge battle." Norm persisted.

Max winced, "And it will be one without the advantage of the vortex to protect them from tracking weapons, nothing to disrupt the human communications and motion-trackers. We have to keep it from getting to that point if we can. And if we can't..." he sighed, shook his head, "No. We'll plan for that later. We have a call to make now."

He carefully brought up the programs that would relay their signal from the transceiver at Hell's Gate, and then calmly waited for contact.

There was not a long wait, the gruff Germanic voice of the UN colonel came on in less than a minute. "Dr. Patel, please respond, this is _Oberst_ Weigand of the United Nations Expeditionary Force."

Steeling himself, Max once again brought the microphone up. "This is Dr. Patel, we read you _Oberst_."

"_Gut._ I do apologize for our lack of manners before, particularly on Administrator Selfridge's behalf. As you can imagine, it was a difficult night for us."

"I understand," he assured him, "I take it the battle was relatively minor then?"

"Perhaps," came the caged and cool response, "We are very interested in why you are communicating with us at all, considering your previous actions against your own species."

He winced, "I was acting in the interests of saving as many lives as possible then, and we are doing the same now. We were hoping to sit down and negotiate with both you and the _Omaticaya_ and to find a compromise that will result in less people, both human and Na'vi, being killed."

Another, familiar voice, came over the comms, "And what reassurance would we have that, even if we did reach a compromise, it would be honored by the Na'vi? We have been attacked by them twice now without us doing anything provocative towards the indigenous."

"I can assure you that the Na'vi takes oaths very, very seriously and that they would respect it." he attempted to assure them.

"I am all for negotiations Mr. Patel, I, like you, would like avoid bloodshed if it is at all possible. But Mr. Selfridge brings up a point. Perhaps if, just at first, you and I were to talk over possible compromises? Then we could approach the local tribe with ideas more likely to be mutually acceptable." The _Oberst_ spoke in a reasonable tone.

"And what assurances would we have that _you_ would not simply abduct us?" Norm shot in, leaning towards the mic.

"_Touche_. Perhaps a meeting at the old Hell's Gate complex, just myself and Dr. Patel? I could even arrive first, unarmed, and await your arrival alone."

Everyone glanced at each other. "Give us a moment." Max turned the mic off and turned to the others. "I'm going to do it," he raised a hand at their objections, "because we need to learn more about what is happening here. Selfridge is back, which means so is the RDA, but this UN guy seems to be running the show. And he has a point, we need some kind of acceptable compromise before we approach the Na'vi with it."

"Even assuming he doesn't just kidnap you Max," Norm protested, "If we go through with this it could destroy what little trust we still have with the tribe, they'll think we're conspiring against them."

He ran a hand through his hair, "I'm getting tired of saying this, but we don't have a choice Norm. The only other thing we can do is sit here and do nothing. And we _need_ more information if we're going to know how to approach this."

Katrina sighed and stood as Norm chewed on his lip, "I'll go get the Samson ready."

* * *

**Date**: March 30th, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

There was a single Samson visible in the distance, circling the area slowly. A uniformed man was leaning casually against the front of the armory block, obviously waiting for them.

Swallowing as Katrina brought them in, he stepped off lightly before heading towards the waiting colonel. He heard the Samson behind him lift off, his friend bringing it up to slowly start circling the base opposite her counterpart.

He looked over the German man, slowly. He had the same kind of fit tone that had so characterized Quaritch, but was obviously much younger. Salt and pepper hair was military short, and his dark blue eyes were piercing. He was wearing the standard gear of a professional soldier, body armor, back-pack, the works. Only the usual full-face helmet was missing, replaced instead by a standard exopack. The pistol holster on his right thigh was empty.

Max's was not. He did not want to have to use it, but much better to have it and not need it. And besides.. after that day, so long ago now, he had never not been armed while at Hell's Gate. "Colonel Weigand?"

The other man nodded, "Dr. Patel. It is good to meet you, surviving so many years here is quite and accomplishment."

He nodded slightly, "It has been difficult, but please do not change the subject of this meeting. We're here to talk about minimizing casualties on both sides, not how we survived here."

"Indeed, we can discuss the latter later no? We will have ample time."

Max frowned, "You intend to stay long term then? Is mining the only reason you're here? Did you not get the transmission we sent concerning what happened here?"

Weigand shrugged, "_Jawohl. _It had no bearing on our plans to return. And yes, we are here to mine, and for unobtanium alone. Were it not here, we would not have returned."

"But what happened here was an atrocity! What Quaritch and Selfridge did just for money, you can't expect me to believe you're here for the same reasons!" he protested.

"We are not here for money, we are here to save Terra and humanity." the Colonel tilted his head and looked at him with those piercing eyes, "And the Na'vi are not without their share of the blame for what happened, their intolerance is as much to blame as human greed."

He blinked, "Save humanity? Terra?"

A wave of the colonel's hand, "A motion was made to change the official name of the earth to Terra some years ago. And yes, save humanity. Our race has long been living on the knife's edge, Dr. Patel, surely one of your intelligence would see that. The battles of the Third World War and the resource wars that followed were horrible, but unobtanium is changing that. Anti-matter reactors give us the power needed to fuel the reclamation projects to save our world, and the ability to travel the stars. We have found other worlds, but to colonize them we need more of the precious metal found only here."

"And the tons of unobtanium shipped back aren't enough?"

"For half the world they are, which brings us to the crux of the matter. Half the world is living in a renaissance world, the other in poverty. The United Nations is doing what it can, but without more unobtanium, war will come, and this time we fear that it could be the final war." At this, the accent became thick, anger evident in his tone, "We cannot allow that to happen, not while still have strength to fight."

Max grimaced, sighed, and began to pace. "And the Na'vi?"

The _Oberst_ spread his hands, "As long as they stay out of our way, we have no reason to harm them. But remember, this is our survival as a species that could be at stake here _Herr doktor_. We will show no mercy if they chose to do battle."

"And the damage to the nature on this world?" Max pressed.

"Again, we will do as little damage as is possible, and will reclaim the land once our projects are complete. You have my assurances, reclamation is a very popular theme amongst our people these days. Now," Weigand began to pace in turn, "I admit to knowing little of the Na'vi but something tells me that they will not accept this as a base for compromise, so what do you propose?"

"They will certainly not like it," he admitted, "but maybe.. maybe if you reclaimed this area? Fix the damage the RDA caused both here and at the mining site? It would make your argument that you intend to cause as little damage as possible more believable to them."

"Perhaps. We could start some minor work on that, to at least begin the process... hmm.. I will talk to _Herr _Selfridge and see if any of his miners could be put to work." the colonel glanced at the darkening sky. "I will speak to my staff, if you will in turn approach the Na'vi, but for now, at least, I believe we should adjourn."

Max nodded slowly, "I hope you really mean what you say Weigand, about wanting to cause as little damage as possible."

The other nodded, "I am here for my people Dr. Patel, I will do what must be done, but I do not believe in excess. I wish you luck on speaking with your native friends, and as a fellow human I hope you survive the days ahead. But I must admit, I do not believe that words will resolve our differences with the natives. They do not care for our presence, and are utterly intolerant about our ways. Please contact me after you have spoken with them."

With that, he turned and headed towards his own Samson, which banked into the area upon seeing them separate.

Sighing, Max signaled Katrina to come in and pick him up, and wished with all his heart he could have told the _Oberst_ that he was wrong.

* * *

**Up Next is Chapter 16: Creative Bastards**

And there we go, the first negotiations between Max and Weigand. Weigand trying to stress _why_ the humans are there, and Max hopelessly looking for a peaceful solution. Hope you all like it.

**insert witty song inspiring people to review here -**


	18. Chapter 16: Creative Bastards

Read any previous version of the disclaimer that says I don't own avatar.

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**Chapter 16: Creative Bastards**

**Date**: April 2nd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

Maria Thomes was not a happy woman, and that suited Parker just fine. It was her turn to have the 'fun' of having to work with Captain Jones and his attempts at turning a Valkyrie into a gunship.

Never-mind the small matter that she was even more attractive when she was enraged.

"I still can't _believe_ that Weigand gave him the go-ahead to scrap one of _my_ Valkryies!" she fumed, pacing back forth restlessly across the newly finished runway.

Parker tried to keep the smile off of his face. Judging by the glare she shot him, he had not done a terribly good job. That it had been his idea to convert the shuttle was something he very much hoped she never learned.

"Come on," he jogged her elbow, "Meeting starts in a few minutes."

Nodding, and tossing one final glare at the scaffolding surrounding the Valkyrie next to the junkyard, she stalked inside one of the few remaining prefab buildings. Originally a living quarters, they had pressed into service as their new Ops Center until the permanent building was complete.

Still snickering mentally to himself at her rage, he followed her in, taking his seat as she angrily poured herself coffee. Weigand and his three subordinates strode in a few minutes later, and Parker's two mining foremen followed them in, taking seats next to him, Augustus passing him a report.

He was glancing over it, it was the usual weekly report concerning the Unobtanium mine. _Still ahead of schedule, even after the attack. That's good._ He made a mental note to recommend the mining team for commendations. Efficiency was always to be praised and rewarded.

Weigand took his place at the head of the table and began speaking, "Good afternoon everyone. As you all know, this meeting concerns to major details. Firstly, in two days time Commodore Bradly will be taking the ISV fleet back home. I want everyone to make sure to keep your men in good spirits about it, especially you, Maria. Your people will be all alone up there and I don't want them to feel isolated. Increase rotations down here if you can spare them."

Nodding, Thomes took out here small tablet and began to make notations on it. Sipping some of his coffee, the expedition leader continued. "Secondly, I met with Dr. Patel at Hell's Gate several days ago and I would like to go over what we discussed."

Parker sat up a bit straighter at this, giving him his full attention.

"Dr. Patel was quite interested in our agenda here, but he did seem to react favorably once I outlined our goals and agenda. He did seem to be rather surprised at my mention of reclaiming the old Hell's Gate region, but was pleased by it. He mentioned that it would make an excellent olive branch to the natives if a cease-fire could be arranged."

"And what makes you think they blue-skins want a cease-fire?" Parker asked incredulously.

"Nothing." The _Oberst_ replied simply. "Dr. Patel seems to believe it to be his duty to act as a mediator between us and them, and seems to desire minimal loss of life on both sides. But he also seemed to be hesitant about the Na'vi, and spoke little of them. Some kind of falling out may have occurred over the last decade and a half, but he did agree to speak with them regarding potential negotiations."

"The RDA tried negotiating last time," Thomes pointed out, "It didn't go anywhere. As Sully outlined in that video they sent, we don't have anything that they want."

Weigand nodded, "Perhaps things have changed, but I doubt it. I doubt very much that these negotiations will happen at all, and even if they do, that they will accomplish anything. But I feel that it is something that we should try, at the very least. Every loss here is one we can ill afford, especially given the recent increases of attacks on our perimeter by the local fauna. If there is a way to get the natives off of our backs, we should attempt it."

He frowned, then nodded very slowly. "Native deaths looked bad in the press, and human deaths look worse, best to avoid them both?"

The Colonel gave him a nod, "Exactly. And if or when it fails, at the very least we did make the attempt to negotiate. Hope for peace, try for peace, but we continue to prepare for war. Let's go over the defensive plans again, as well as Jones' pet project."

* * *

**Date**: April 5th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus Junkyard, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Ugliest damn thing I've ever seen." Weigand beamed.

"We call her _Brunhilde_ sir." The young captain replied, also beaming at the.. monstrosity.

Parker simply shook his head and stared.

They had torn into the Valkyrie hard. All of the ceramic tiles had been torn off, and the white hull repainted a dull gray. Three holes had been cut into its right side, with scrap metal welded partially over them to build shields for the guns whose snouts now protruded a good meter from each hole. Atop its roof, they had taken Quaritch's already good idea of mounting machine guns to the extreme. Engineers had cut more holes into the ship and welded metal plates together to create a pair of makeshift bunkers, the snouts of machine gun barrels barely visible against the ship's bulk. And if _that_ was not enough, the ramp was locked in its downwards position, with even more metal carefully welded into place to create yet another makeshift bunker guarding the vehicles rear.

A smiling Jones also pointed out a small controlled turret mounting a machine gun on the beast's nose, which he said the copilot would control.

The massive picture of a scantily clad woman clutching spear and shield seemed to be right at home on the nose of the ship, somehow blending with the mixed gunmetal gray hull and rusting metal protrusions. They spent maybe an hour crawling around inside of it, Jones happily pointing out every modification, from the obvious, the three forty-millimeter auto-cannons, to the minor; numerous small rotors they had cannibalized from the wreckage of Hell's Gate to help keep the beast stable when it fired its heavy weapons.

After their 'tour' was complete, they had moved outside to gaze at _Brunhilde_ again when Weigand asked Jones, "And where is your crew? They deserve something for this indeed!"

The American grinned, "Playing football in the junkyard sir, I gave them the day off."

Chuckling, the three made their way deeper into the mounds of rusting metal hulks, stopping when they came upon the engineers. Parker had no idea where the men had found the ball, but it somehow did not surprise him at all that someone had smuggled one with. Goals had been cobbled together out of the wrecks, and they had apparently rounded up some of the off-duty Germans to play against.

A small smile tugged at his face as he listened to Adler scream commands from his place before his team's goal.

He also noticed that there was already a small crowed gathered. Several of his miners had wandered over and were sitting on top of the scrapped Dragon, cheering for both teams more or less at random, and he could see Thomes and some of her crew resting in the shade created by an old Helltruck. He wandered over to the Dragon, carefully climbing on top of it and sitting on the edge next to Augustus, and for the first time since his vacation in Helsinki, he simply relaxed.

The game went on for the entire day, players leaving to go on-duty, members of the crowd joining in. When the sun began to set, engineers hastily cobbled together a lighting system, hanging lights from any suitable perch and running cables from the monstrosity named _Brunhilde_ for power.

At one point he was dragged into the game as a referee, despite the fact that he had only a basic understanding of the rules. Everyone, including Parker, had laughed a bit when Thomes had had to run out onto the field to explain the rules for a penalty kick to him.

He finally shooed his miners away from the 'Rust Bowl' when it was near midnight, reminding them that they had work to do the following morning. With only halfhearted grumbling the game and crowd slowly broke up.

Even as everyone left, Parker heard Jones ordering his men to rig up a generator for the lights, and to make sure the goals were stable. He chuckled to himself as he fell asleep, and wondered how long it would take for an actual tournament to start up. Knowing how competitive both his mining crews and the soldiers on base were, he guessed that the entire base would be divided up by morning.

* * *

**Date**: April 7th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"The wildlife attacks are getting out of hand." Weigand was saying at this particular meeting. "We've had three viperwolf packs try and attack the unobtanium mine in the last twenty-four hours alone, and that's not including the two slinger attacks over the last week, or the thanator that tried to eat _Kapitan_ Kozlov two days ago. We need to find a new solution beyond reacting to the attacks, we're killing them every time something attacks, but it's as if the beasts have gone mad with hate. Beyond that, with two more men dead and a dozen more injured, we can't accept casualties like this."

"Increase the kill zones." Jones supplied immediately. "Clear cut out to two-hundred yards instead of one around the base."

Kozlov and Parker both spoke at the same time, "Automated defenses." The Russian yielded to him with a wave of his hand. "Mount automated turrets around the mining sites and along the roads."

"Not long-term solutions," Thomes intervened, "We need to drive the prey animals out of the region, starve them out. They can either follow their stomachs or stay and die."

Jones protested, "That would take far too long, we don't have the time or the resources."

"We do," she insisted, "We use the Samson squadron, get _Brunhilde_ up and running, and the-"

"_Ruhig alles._" Weigand broke in. "All are good workable ideas, but I think we shall go with a combination of the first two for now. Extend the kill-zone around the mines to one-hundred and fifty meters. Maria? Send down the automated turrets we have stored on the _Dream_. I'm releasing the AMP reserve platoon to the patrol list, and Parker, have your miners start arming themselves when on-duty. Also, have them work with Jones and his men in contemplating rigging defensive weapons to their mining equipment."

He paused to enter a notation into his computer, "We'll leave the idea of driving the prey animals in the region out until after Dr. Patel contacts us concerning the natives. Until we have exhausted negotiation, I would like to avoid angering them any further than is needed to mine. Let's see.. ah, _ja_. Maria, have you're satellites picked up any indication that the blue-skins may be preparing an assault?"

She shook her head, "No sir. Maybe increased traffic in between villages, but nothing more than that."

Parker frowned a bit, "Do you think they're warning each other about us being back, or calling in reinforcements?"

"Probably both," she admitted. "I'll alert you all as soon as we pick up something out of the ordinary."

The _Oberst _nodded. "Thank you dear Captain. I do believe that is all for our agenda today, save for attempting to contact Dr. Patel, which I shall do tonight, shortly after _Herr_ Adler's men are finished defeating _Frau_ Thome's crewmen."

Laughing and jeering followed the proclamation, as everyone attempted to forget the dangers that hounded them.

* * *

**Up next is Chapter 17: Deadly Sins**

A bit short, this one is a bit more development than most of the previous ones were. Introduced the UN's new technological terror, hope you all like it.

Got the football/soccer idea from a random thought I had, "They have to do _something_ for fun there right? I mean, all work and no play will drive them insane?"

Expect things to start heating up in the following chapters, as we deal with Max trying with everything he can to stop a war from starting.


	19. Chapter 17: Deadly Sins

I don't own Avatar, though that's pretty obvious, no? Hands up if you thought I did.

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**Chapter 17: Deadly Sins**

**Date**: April 3rd, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

The hunt had gone well. They had managed to hit a _yerik_ with their Samson's door gun and were heading back to their camp. As it had been ever since Max's meeting, their discussion was on how to present humanity's goals and offer in the best way possible.

"We need to use it to show that humanity is changing, capable of learning from their errors." Norm insisted as they flew. "Show them that technology can be used to cure, not just for destruction."

"It'll be a hard sell though," Max replied, "Most of the Na'vi know almost nothing about human technology, or about humans at all for that matter. Convincing them that these humans aren't insane destroyers could be hard, especially if any of the Avatars identified Selfridge during the attack."

Norm frowned, and Max could almost hear the mental cogs moving. "We'll have to make sure he's not present at any meetings then." he said finally, "Jake could freak out, and the Avatar gang _would_ freak out, and that would set the tribe off."

Katrina chimed in over the comms, "So, in addition to convincing the Na'vi to let humans harm their goddess, even in a limited fashion, we need to keep the presence of someone, who is probably high up on the food chain over there, totally secret until after any oaths are made."

He winced, "Yes. And our only selling point is a hypothetical reclamation project, and the knowledge that humanity is apparently on the verge of another world war."

"The last one is a problem for us," Norm admitted, "I mean, _we_ care about what happens on Earth. I don't know about you guys but it's still... I mean.." his voice trailed off, "It was shitty, overpopulated, and run by scumbags, but it's still our home. Still where we came from. What made us who we are."

Max closed his eyes and leaned back, Norm's words bringing back a flood of memories that he had long-ago locked away. Human food. Pizza, real pizza. Watching football games, both kinds, American and FIFA. Working with the other Avatar team members, getting ready to head here, traveling light years to find the answers to humanity's problems.

"Hey guys? We got company. Looks like a Na'vi." Kat's voice came across as the Samson circled down for a landing.

"I think it's John," Norm called, leaning out of the chopper and waving to the being, who waved back in return. "Yep, it's him." he confirmed as they touched down.

Max stared confusedly at John as he dismounted, who was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against Norm's shack.

"John! What are doing here? Thought you guys weren't stopping by for a few more days yet." Max blinked, stepping from the Samson and beginning to untie the _Yerik._

John murmured something quietly. Norm, who was closer to him than he was, froze and stared at him. "You were _what_?"

"Exiled." he muttered more loudly this time.

Max and Katrina stopped working and joined their friend in staring blankly at their friend.

He managed to find his voice first, "How?"

The Avatar sighed and settled down on his haunches. "Miguel and I talked with Mo'at two days ago about what was happening. She wasn't thrilled about finding out we were talking with the UN guys. She thinks another round of battles is a mistake, but since Jake is _Olo'eyktan_ and Neytiri took over as _Tsahik_, all she can do is make suggestions." he winced here, "She also yelled at us for talking to her about it, and not to Jake directly. We got her to agree to forget it happened, and we left."

He reached into his small, battered pack and pulled out a water-skin, taking a drink, he resumed, "Miguel and I argued about whether or not to confront Jake in person about it and then we headed to bed. Got woken up by a knife held to my throat. Apparently Tsu'tey overheard us. Since Miguel was against confronting Jake, they thought he was against talking with the _tawtute_ and he played along with it. Jake was furious that I was 'conspiring against Eywa and the people, and Neytiri looked like she wanted to skin me alive. Thought they were going to kill me at first but they just kicked me out after Miguel and Mo'at convinced them that killing me wouldn't solve anything. Jake said if I wanted to be with humans so bad, I could go, see if they accepted me as I am now. So, grabbed my pack and what little stuff I still have, and headed here as fast as I could."

Max shook his head and sat on the edge of the Samson. "Dammit John. This complicates things a lot man."

Their friend winced, "Sorry Max."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair in what was becoming a tic. "It's all right, nothing to do but play it out as best we can. That Jake and Neytiri reacted that way isn't good though."

Norm nodded, "It's going to be a pain to convince them to not fight if they exiled you just for thinking you _talked_ with them."

"Norm," Katrina sighed, "I think that's the understatement of the century. John, help us get this beast cooked and tell us everything that's going on at the _kelutral_. If we're going to try and keep this from devolving further, we need all the information we can get."

* * *

**Date**: April 5th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A

They had just returned to their camp from the edge of _Omaticaya _territory, empty handed for the moment. The _Omaticaya_ warrior that they had encountered had said that he was to not allow them access to the _kelutral_, that instead he would relay to Jake that they needed to speak to him and that Jake would travel to them as soon as he had time available.

As they had trotted back through the forest, Max had gone over the conversations that had kept all of them up late into the night. John's news and information had not been encouraging. Neytiri, in her role as _Tsahik_, had been in communication with Eywa, and she had told the tribe that their goddess believed humans to be a threat to the balance of all life, that they would again resume their path of destruction and insanity.

On top of that, Jake had sent his best surviving warriors to the surrounding clans to start training them to fight as the _Omaticaya_ had. That was both good and bad news. Bad, in that it meant Jake intended to once more fly as _Toruk'makto_ and lead the clans against the new human presence. Good, in that it also meant he was being intelligent enough to wait for not only reinforcements, but _trained_ reinforcements, meaning that they had time to attempt to settle things down.

Unconsciously running hand through his hair, he nodded to John as they emerged into their small clearing. The smell of cooking meat met him, and he noted that not only had John cooked the rest of the _yerik, _he had prepared some of the local plants with it on small plates for them.

Feeling grateful, and a bit ashamed, Max smiled and thanked him. As John would never again be welcome with the _Omaticaya_, short of a radical shift in their mindsets, he had been stuck behind as the three of them had headed off to try and meet with the tribe.

_He was probably bored out of his mind_, Max thought as he and the others took their food inside to eat, John very carefully squeezing himself into the shack as he did so. _He'd have a bitch of a time operating any of our equipment, and we're well stocked enough on food for a week, at least. After the business of village life, he would have had all the time in the world to fully realize what his exile means._

Eating slowly, he made small talk with him, trying to gauge his friend's spirits. Katrina and Norm seemed to be doing the same, asking him about what projects he had worked on, what he planned to do with them. If they could help him study the local plants, what he had learned from that, and general scientific small talk.

They had managed to buoy him up fairly well when the conversation took a serious turn after dinner. "So guys," Max said as they all relaxed. "How are we going to do this? Weigand made me think that the UN really would leave the Na'vi alone if given the chance, but that they'll crush them totally, or die trying, if they don't."

Everyone else winced.

John spoke next, "That may be something you can use. I mean, if everything else fails. Fighting to drive them off is all well and good, but if the humans dig in their heels and _refuse_ to be driven off, that's going to be even bloodier."

Nodding, the sole woman in the room hopped onto one of the desks and perched on it, legs swinging beneath her, "That's something. Another thing to bring up will be that it's not the RDA. I mean," she frowned, "Not _entirely_ the RDA. Selfridge being here means they're still involved somehow, but if this Weigand guy is in charge, than the UN's done some moving and shaking back on Earth."

"All right." He leaned forward and leaned his chin on one of his hands, "So, we bring up the human plan to reclaim Hell's Gate and the old mine site as a token of good faith on their part. That they don't want conflict, and about how since it's the UN running the show now, there will be more public pressure on them act humanely. If none of that works," he sighed, "We bring up the fact that Weigand out and out told us that if fighting broke out that they didn't intend to pull any punches."

"Shaky plan" Norm said quietly. "Made worse by the fact that we have no idea when Jake will be in contact with us again, and if really is planning on turning this into a full-on guerillas war against them, it might be weeks before he sees us, if he agrees at all."

"Those thoughts don't get us anywhere," with a wave of his hand he dismissed them, "We can worry and plan about that later. As it is, we've got enough on our plate for the next few days. Jake probably won't stop by to chat before the seventh, and that's when Weigand said he'd be in touch again. So, let's work out what we're going to talk about in _that_ meeting."

* * *

**Date**: April 7th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"So you're native friend stood you up?" the Germanic voice sounded a bit thicker, gruffer to Max, if he didn't know better, he would say that the _Oberst_ sounded depressed.

"We've sent messages, but as you can imagine, he's quite busy, and I'm sure he'll meet with us as soon as he can." he said, tone placating. "In the mean-time, my friends and I have been talking with one of the Avatar team members about how to best approach the topic to ensure that it has a maximum chance of succeeding."

"_Gut._" the reply came, "I am glad to see you are taking this seriously Dr. Patel. I have spoken with my staff, and we intend to begin the reclamation project of the original mining site as soon as we have the manpower to spare. We are also avoiding actions that may... provoke the natives. However, there has been a large increase in attacks by the native fauna recently, and until things have calmed down, we will not be able to start our work at the mining site, and if it doesn't cease soon we may be forced to take more drastic measures to ensure our safety."

Max immediately turned off the mic and turned to the others, "You don't think that she..?"

A wince came from John, "Neytiri wouldn't have asked it of Eywa, but if her interpretation of Eywa's will is right, it could be she decided to reject humanity on her own."

Grimacing, he reactivated the mic. "That is disturbing news, we'll look into it and see if there's anything that could have caused it, or anyway to safely keep them from attacking."

"That would be appreciated. We are being forced to kill far more than we can eat, especially as many of the beasts are inedible to us. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do. I leave the time of our next meeting to you, Dr. Patel. Although I remain unconvinced that you will succeed, I do wish you luck."

The link went dead, and Max leaned back in his chair. "Eywa may or may not be influencing the fauna to attack them. If she is, there's no way we'll get her to stop and the humans will probably burn everything around them to protect themselves." his thoughts tumbled out of him as he concentrated. "Maybe we can ask Neytiri at the negotiations, tell her that the humans are being forced to kill many beings to protect themselves, that she must convince Eywa to stop to save lives."

A sigh from his right, Norm, "Another hard conversation. We seem to be putting a lot of those on our shoulders."

A quiet chuckle from Katrina, "The heroes always have to carry the burden, remember Norm."

She got a glare in return, "How was it my fate to live with a bunch of psychoanalysts who won't leave me alone?" Norm complained.

Max, John, and Katrina all started laughing. It felt good, but they knew it wouldn't last. They had time, but it was only an illusion. Sooner or later, it would run out, and Pandora's rivers of life would be choked with blood once more.

* * *

**A thank you!**

Huge thanks to everyone who is reading and has reviewed. Considering it's my first story, and only has been published for five days, I'm astounded as to both the number of readers and the response, keep reviewing, keep enjoying, and thanks.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 18: Darkening Night**

And here's the next Max chapter. Would have had it up earlier but fanfiction was updating or something. This one didn't turn out as long as I thought it would be. Was originally going to have the meeting in this chapter but realized it screwed up the timeline for the next Parker one, so you'll have to wait a bit to see Max, Norm, and Kat debating/argueing with Jake and Neytiri.

Really glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter, in particular _Brunhilde_ and the football games.

Review responses:

sana-dracios: Glad you're really liking it, hope it continues to impress.

andrewjameswilliams: it's not going to go so far as for the humans to bombard the planet, but expect something on that matter to be brought up as a debate point much later in the story.

paranoidschizo91: good to see you enjoyed the match and the rigged up valkyrie. Also very glad to see you liked the chapter name, I'm trying to keep them appropriate while foreshadowing just a bit.


	20. Chapter 18: Darkening Nights

I don't own avatar, but I suppose I own my original characters.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Darkening Nights**

**Date**: April 10th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centuari A system

Sleeping in the newly built apartment complex for the mining crews was a welcome change from the prefabricated building for Parker. For one thing, the thick concrete did a much better job of keeping out the sounds of random gunfire at night than the thin metal prefab had.

He was in a congenial mood upon waking, as it had been pleasant indeed to be able to sleep throughout the night without being woken by the turrets at the nearby gravel mine, or by the heavier, and harder to ignore, AMP patrol's opening fire as they brought back the last mining crews for the night.

Stretching, he put on his workout clothes before donning his exopack and heading outside to run. Like Quaritch before him, Weigand had instituted a mandatory work-out policy to ensure that everyone remained healthy in the lower gravity.

Starting into a slow jog, he began to follow his usual course around the base. Several of his miners waved to him as they headed to their massive trucks to start hauling back unobtanium.

"Great game last night, wasn't it boss?" one of them called out, grinning.

"Long as you guys stomp Thomes tomorrow. She still hasn't stopped needling Weigand about losing, and I don't want to be on the receiving end." he called back,

They laughed and clambered up into their trucks as Parker moved past. As they began to roll out, he saw the blonde-haired captain, clad in her own light clothes, out on her own run. Noticing him in turn, she turned and made her way over to him.

"Morning Administrator."

"Good morning Captain." he nodded in return, forcing himself to not stare at her as they ran. "What is new?"

"Not much. Down here for this last meeting, and the game tomorrow, then I'm back up to the _Dream_ to see off Bradley and the rest of the fleet day after."

His memory poked at him, "Ah yes, the meeting. It's been moved up three hours, did you get that memo."

She blinked, "No I didn't, what's the occasion?"

"Angry Thanator tried to tear apart one of my excavators yesterday to get at the man inside. AMP teams brought it down, but that's the second one of those beasts to try it. Combine that with all of the viper wolf attacks, the fortunately few slingers we've seen, and that wasp swarm three days ago, Weigand's admitted we have to do something more. I think Jones and Adler are going to push for a torch and burn around the mining sites." he explained, pace slowing as they neared the apartment complex once more.

The space captain frowned and slowed as well, looking at the partially complete quarters for the soldiers as she did so. "That will piss of the natives, and I thought he was avoiding that."

Parker shrugged, "They're always going to be pissed at us over something. Not much to do about it. More important is making sure the mining goes ahead on schedule. My teams have gone from being more than a week ahead to a day behind thanks to all these attacks."

"Salt the soil?" she suggested, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "Show the Na'vi how brutal ancient humanity was, and that they should be glad we're more civilized?"

He paused, as though seriously contemplating it, "I don't think we have enough salt. And it's the only thing that makes hexapede edible."

"Touche." she laughed.

He bade her goodbye until the meeting, headed inside, showered, changed and ran through a few reports before heading back outside to reach the new ops center. Soon enough the tunnel connecting the two buildings would be finished, and he would not have to take the circuitous route.

Looking over the new building over as he approached, he smiled lightly from nostalgia. It had much in common with the old one at Hell's Gate. Same basic design, sans the lighter color. The most obvious difference was that the Hell's Gate Ops center hadn't had it's own defensive weapons.

_Should have had them,_ he thought, feeling mildly bitter at the memory of Patel and the Avatar team attacking it in the aftermath of the battle. Several remote-controlled machine guns could be seen on the edges, and a much larger turret on the roof that Jones had said was a dual-forty milometer cannon system, strong enough to drop even a raging titanohere.

He nodded greetings to the staff on duty as he headed in. The interior was still a work in progress, but the massive holo-table was up and running at least, as were about half of the computer stations. He headed into his office, identical in all but decoration to his old, and began to run through reports, trying to get as many done as he could before the meeting began.

The unobtanium mine was lagging nearly a day behind schedule, which was to be expected, considering that it had born the brunt of the recent attacks. The gravel mine was not as far behind, and he hoped that they'd be able to make up lost time today, assuming nothing major happened.

_Odds of that, extremely unlikely,_he thought with a shake of his head. _The attacks are getting worse, not better. They're acting too damn smart for animals. Avoiding the main base itself entirely, and now only the bigger animals are attacking the mining sites, and the wolves are going after the truck convoys. Fuck, that we have to use a convoy system for our trucks just isn't right, not for a measly two mile drive._

Grumbling internally, he flashed through the rest, most concerning the progress of the mining, and most also requesting that he put pressure on Weigand to do something decisive about the attacks.

He signed and uploaded the last report to the base's intranet before heading out and deeper into the building, entering the main conference room. Thomes and Kozlov were already there, and he helped himself to some coffee from a nearby table as he listened to them debate the best method to clear the area of natives. Thomes was sticking to her over-hunting idea, whereas Kozlov wanted to clear-cut the areas on the roadside out to two hundred meters and position their spare automated turrets along it.

"Those are the last ones we have in reserve," she was countering as he sat down, "We can't make more until the _Terran Winter_ shows up with the STG plant, and that's not going to be for over a year!"

"But it's the only method open to us that wouldn't overly incite the blue-skins," their Russian companion shot back, "As much as I would dearly love to simply torch and burn the area in full klick around anything we hold, we still have to be diplomatic."

Thomes was not having any of it, "Why do we have to be diplomatic about this? Our people are getting wounded, killed, _eaten_ for Christ's sake! We're not getting reinforcements for over a year either, it's all the _Lament_ can do to haul the digging equipment and more ammunition, and what reinforcements the _Winter_ will be carrying will mostly be the staff to run the plant. We have to act _now_ to deal with this, and deal with it _permanently_."

"I agree," at this, Parker spoke up, "I had a dozen requests for heavier firepower this morning, and both of my mining foremen are begging me to convince Weigand to torch the area. They're sick of being attacked and not knowing if they'll come back from the mines every day."

"_Sehr gut._ I am glad we are on the same page." _Hauptmann _Adler and Jones had just walked in, "We cannot keep this up forever. At our current rate, we'll deplete our munitions the month before the _Lament _arrives with more, and her crew won't find anyone here."

Parker winced, stomach turning a bit. The idea of being trapped here, guns completely dry.. he shuddered. _No. No way in hell, we're dealing with this, we have to._

They all sat and waited. Weigand showed up shortly, looking exhausted. He froze a bit, frown on his face when he saw them all seated in silence and staring back at him.

Their commander nodded, as though it were expected, before heading to the head of the table. "Let me guess, forget diplomacy, torch and burn?" he asked as he sat.

Parker tossed one of his electronic reports across the table at him. "I've got five others just like that, just from this _morning_. My teams are sick of being attacked, we're running steadily more behind, and equipment damage is starting to become a problem."

"Ammunition expenditure is getting out of hand," Kozlov rumbled, "Morale amongst my people is getting low, and the wounded would rather stay on the _Dream_ than return to the surface."

"My men are getting angry at not being allowed to fight back," this was Adler, "We're supposed to be the air support but we've done nothing since arrival. They say they can't look the Russians or Americans in the eyes anymore."

Weigand winced at this and leaned back in his chair. He opened his mouth, shut it, and nodded instead to Jones, who continued the verbal barrage. "Morale is dropping amongst my engineers as well. That hellfire swarm that killed two of my men and wounded five more was another blow on top of the losses from the battle. They want to hit back, against the natives, this world, something. I've had to break up two fights in the last day, tensions are high."

Thomes chimed in, "_Oberst_... Eric. We have to stop this, even if the natives are going to get pissed. We can't last until August like this. And as the veterans here are telling me, the natives will probably hate us no matter what we do anyway."

A sigh came from their leader. "Throw away the negotiations?"

He shook his head, "No, we survive. Hard to negotiate if we're not alive isn't it?" Parker waved a hand expressively, "We can't start appeasing them with reclamation if all this shit is happening here, and we won't survive long enough to actually negotiate with them if we don't do something."

The _Obest_ sat in silence for a while, staring at nothing, before he nodded slowly. "You are right. Human interests and lives must come first to us. If it brings a most likely inevitable battle closer, than so be it. _Hauptman _Adler, _Hauptmann_ Jones. I want the Samsons loaded and ready to begin scouring the area within three hours. Get _Brunhilde_ up as well for heavy support. _Hauptmann_ Kozlov, work with _Kapitan_ Thomes on getting the remainder of our sentry turrets in place along the road, and then I want a hundred meter kill zone on both sides."

He turned to Parker, "Have your men work with them on the clear-cutting Administrator. Tommorow, I want you and Jones to have a meeting concerning additional defenses regarding the mining site. You two came up with _Brunhilde_, maybe you can surprise us once more. We still have plenty of scrap metal in the junkyard, I want the two of you to come up with a use for it. Thomes, work with them if you have the time before you leave."

Parker paled a bit when he felt Thomes' furious glare hit him, but he nodded.

"Get to work." Everyone rose, Parker was among them, but then a thought struck him, and frowning at Weigand, he remained as everyone else filed out.

"Yes Administrator?" the base commander asked, once everyone else had filed out.

"That was too much of a plan to come with on the spur of the moment." Parker said, still frowning. "You had already decided before you came in here what would happen."

"_Jawohl. _I would not be a good commander if I had not. I also heard the discussion inside, and it solidified my resolve."

"But.. why? Why not just tell us at the beginning? Why go through all that? Would have saved time."

The German sighed and stood, "Because if we're going to survive, Parker, we need to stay together. A divided leadership is a divided people, and when you all united against what you thought I would say, in a sense, you united this base. By tomorrow, everyone will have a purpose again. By the day after, morale will be higher. That is why I did it."

He left the room, pausing as he did, "Get to work my friend, it will be a hard road ahead once the blue-skins learn of this."

Parker sighed, and followed him out. A blur occupied the corner of his vision for the moment before a fist slammed into his face at what felt like a hundred kilometers per hour.

Vision exploding, he dropped to the floor, barely being able to make out Thomes standing over him.

"_Your _idea huh. _Your_ idea that they tear apart one of _my_ ships and turn it into a flying _trash_ heap!"

He sighed and simply laid there, pain already spreading across his entire face

_It's going to be a long two days before she heads back to orbit, _he thought to himself even as she continued her tirade.

* * *

**Date**: April 11th, 2170

**Location**: 'Rust Bowl' Junkyard, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"What do you think Administrator?" Jones was asking as they sat on the rusted Dragon, staring across the massive junkyard.

"I have no idea." he admitted. "The whole gunship thing was just a fluke, I have no idea why he thinks I can help you."

"'Cuz you've been here before, for a long damn time." the other American supplied. "You'll know what might work, and more importantly, was doesn't. Let's start with that, what's been tried?"

Parker sighed, "Fences are useless without electrical current, and things like titanoheres can just bull through them anyway, and most of the others can just jump them unless they're ridiculously high. Land mines don't work, the magnetic ones get set off at random thanks to the magnetic field or something, and the animals seem to be able to smell them anyway."

He ticked them off on his fingers as he went through what the early RDA settlers, and later Quaritch, had tried, "We never found a sonic frequency that doesn't just piss them off, microwave emitters are a pain to maintain and don't cover a broad area well. I think there was some vague ideas of using a toxin to clear mass-areas of the woods, but we never had the budget to work on it, and we couldn't think of anything that wouldn't kill the forest as well, which we wanted to avoid at the time, Pandoran wood sells."

Jones nodded, a frown on his face, "Was hoping you hadn't tried sonic emitters to be honest, would be the easiest way to keep them away."

"That was one of the early ones," he replied shaking his head. A roar was heard and he glanced to his right_, Brunhilde_ was taking off on another hunting trip, half a dozen Samsons lifting off and moving into escort positions. They'd killed enough hexapeds and titanoheres to feed them for months, and were still killing more. The attacks hadn't stopped, or slowed really, but they were hoping it was just a matter of time before hungry bellies forced the predators to move elsewhere.

"Automated turrets were the only thing we found really worked, and it helped that, for the most part, the fauna avoided Hell's Gate like the plague, and I think the main excavator scared the hell out of a lot of them at the mining site." he finished, watching the massive Valkyrie slowly move overhead and out over the jungle.

He heard a sigh as he watched, "So, the only thing that seemed to work was the second largest vehicle constructed by man, and we won't be getting ours for another four months, and even then, it is not a guarantee."

"Yep."

"Dammit."

The two stared at the junkyard in silence for a while.

"Game tonight right?" Jones asked after a while.

"Yeah. My gravel-diggers against Thomes' spacemen." he replied.

"Good. Always better after there's been a game, morale is always up."

He nodded, "Yeah. Amazing how it can make people forget where we are for a bit."

They sat in silence a while more. In the distance, he saw flashes and heard muted explosions as _Brunhilde_ found something worth killing.

"Still seems funny that we're playing a game in something as dangerous as a rusting junkyard." he commented.

"Doesn't it?" Jones agreed, then froze, frowning. "Parker. Has anyone told you that you're a genius?"

He blinked, "No. Why?"

Jones gestured. "This place is dangerous, the metal is sharp, rusting, things are falling apart. We use that."

"Huh?"

An impatient sigh, "We tear it apart even more, make sure the edges are sharp enough to cut and tear, and we line the edges of the roads with it, fill the new kill-zones and the areas around the mines. Kind of like barbed-wire mixed with dragon's teeth."

Parker blinked and frowned, thinking.

Jones continued, "It'll stop most of the attacks cold, I mean, even animals are smart enough not to try running through a field of metal shards. We make sure there's a good mix of smaller and large ones, so that the big beasts don't want to try it either. Only thing we'd have to worry about are things that fly at that point, and the automated turrets can handle those just fine. Hell, I bet there's enough metal we could even make barbed wire and run that out too. Fuck, I didn't even think about shit like that man."

"Doesn't that sound.. 20th century?" he asked, trying to remember. "Like all those old war movies about the first two world wars?"

An encouraged nod, "Exactly like that, they used that shit cuz it _worked_. It's a pain in the ass to untangled yourself from barbed-wire, and that's when you're human and smart enough to work out how to get out of it." he leaped to his feet and hopped off. "I need to go talk to Weigand about this, see you at the game!" He was running even as Parker belatedly bid him goodbye.

He stared at the junkyard some more. "Metal spears, shards, and barbed-wire. Huh." he shrugged, it was worth a shot he supposed, and it wasn't like they had anything else to do with the rusting wreckage. They had already removed everything of value.

Hopping down off the Dragon, he headed towards the Ops Center. _Might as well get some work done before the game._

* * *

**Date**: April 12th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Jones had his engineers working around the clock. Even as Parker and Weigand stood in the darkness, staring at the sky, they could hear the sounds of clanging metal. A huge pile of rusting metallic spears, triangular shards that looked like sharks teeth, and various other shapes rested near the southern entrance, waiting for morning to be taken out and affixed into the ground.

That was not why he and the _Oberst_ were standing outside at night however, they were waiting for something else.

Far overhead, six new stars suddenly appeared. The significance was not lost on him, or anyone else in the base. Sound in the junkyard stuttered, slowed, then stopped as everyone turned their eyes to the sky.

They were alone now.

It was, Parker realized, something far too significant for one small word. Five letters, two syllables. It did not seem like it was enough to contain the weary fear and helplessness that he now felt.

They could not leave now, if things went bad. Could not retreat from this base, could not call for help. Their survival would depend on their skill and resources, and upon those factors alone.

_We're... all alone now._ The thought raged in his head, and he bit down his tongue on a hysterical laugh. He turned and headed back into the apartment complex, heading for the newly finished kitchen. He did not want to go to sleep sober. And besides, his miners were still partying it up after winning 2-1 the previous night, so it was not as though he would be drinking alone, though he was sure that he would be the only one drinking to forget.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 19: Hopeful Overture**

This one was the opposite of the last chapter, turning out longer than I thought it would. The meeting in particular lasted longer, but I think it came across well. We'll see how humanity's latest defensive attempts are faring a few chapters down the road.

But first, we have to have our fateful negotiations session between Max and Jake, and we'll what the locals think of the human's actions and promises. That will end the second act, and we're overdue for another interlude about things back on Terra. After that, we're back to Selfridge and seeing how humanity's defensive attempts are faring against a world that seemingly loathes them.

**Review, review, a thousand times review. I like them, they're shiny, and so I want more.**


	21. Chapter 19: Hopeful Overtures

I own avatar not.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Hopeful Overture**

**Date**: April 14th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

It was a full week before Jake and Neytiri arrived to talk.

As soon as they had seen the two _ikran_ approaching, the small group had gotten ready. John had sequestered himself inside of Norm's shack, not wanting his presence to risk the negotiations. They'd done their best to clear enough space for him to lay out on the floor, and brought him some equipment to work with, but it was still probably going to be an uncomfortable afternoon for him.

Max waved as they _ikan_ landed, and exchanged greetings in Na'vi as Neytiri and Jake dismounted.

"Max. Norm. Katrina." Jake returned, nodding at them in turn. "You said it was urgent, so what's up?"

Max steeled himself, they had agreed beforehand that it would be him doing most of the talking. "It might take a little while, mind sitting down with us? We have some water if you need it."

The _Olo'eyktan_ frowned, but followed them and sat cross legged, Neytiri joining him.

"Max'patel, what is so important?" the latter spoke.

He sucked in a quiet breath, "We've been talking with the United Nations people Jake."

They both froze and stared at him.

Max spoke quickly now, before he could be interrupted, "And yes, it is the UN, not the RDA this time around Jake. I met with their leader a few days ago to try and set up negotiations. He's different than Quaritch, you have my word on that."

"Max, you _can't_ trust them." Jake snarled, his tail flicking back and forth, "I thought Quaritch was all right at the start to, and you saw how that turned out. Besides, the RDA _is_ here. Their logo isn't pasted all over the mining equipment we saw for nothing, and if they're back, then mining is all they care about."

He winced, "Mining is all the care about," he admitted, "But not for money, not this time. Earth's on the edge of another world war Jake, and they think that unobtanium may be the only thing to prev-"

"Bah! Even if that _is_ true, how the hell does a single resource prevent, or cause something like that? Or is it just human greed gone out of control all over again." Jake wasn't having any of it.

"Jake, calm down. I don't think they're lying. They offered to start reclaiming the old mine site and Hell's Gate as soon as they had people to spare. Apparently there's all kinds of projects going on Earth right now trying to reclaim the land, and they're offering to do the same here." he was trying to stay calm, he _had_ to get Jake to see.

Jake, still snarling, shot back, "Max, I just came from a patrol near their base. They've got some kind of Valkyrie rigged up as a bomber, and they're slaughtering everything that moves around their base. Would a people who respect life do that? Huh?"

"What? Why would they... oh. Oh." he grimaced.

Neytiri glared at him, "You know what would cause such insanity?"

Norm spoke up quietly, "They called a few days ago, asking if we knew anyway of keeping the local animals calm. Apparently they've been under siege by them for several days now, and have lost a lot of people. They must have gotten totally fed up with it."

"Eywa fights them." she murmured, apparently pondering the new information.

Max thought he saw where her mind was going, and did not like it at all. The Na'vi were extremely close to the wishes of Eywa, and if she was fighting, Neytiri might feel compelled to fight as well. "They're fighting and losing, Neytiri. These humans aren't like the ones you fought last time, those men were fighting for greed. These are soldiers, like you were Jake, and they aren't going to turn tail and run."

"The people are warriors too Max, and I trust them by my side far more than I ever trusted another human."

He saw Norm wince out of the corner of his eye. "Jake," he said, getting desperate now, "They don't want to fight, all they want to do is mine, reclaim the land when they're done, and go home. They don't want to hurt the people, or Eywa, anymore than they have to, but Weigand told me flat out that if you wanted a fight, he'd give you one without mercy."

The _Tsahik_ spoke, "Max, you are a friend to the people, and you are seeking to save lives here, but we are the children of Eywa. If the Great Mother fights for us, how can we not aid her as we are able?"

"At _least_ try to talk with them Neytiri," Katrina spoke, frustration in her tone, "I don't want to lose you or Jake or any of others. Didn't we lose enough last time?"

She frowned at the human woman's tone. "I will speak with Eywa, upon our return." she said after a long pause, "But if she believes that the _tawtute_ must leave, then leave they must."

She rose, and Jake followed suit, speaking as he did. "Max, you may be trying to do the right thing here, but I don't want you talking with them anymore. You can't trust them. I've lost a lot of friends recently, and I don't want to see you caught up in this."

"Jake, I'm trying to save as many lives as I can. If a fight breaks out again, far more will die than if you just leave the humans be."

"Are you sure about that? Humanity has a great record of co-existence so far Max, both here and on the dead world they call Earth. I'm going to put my trust in the People and in Neytiri, and in Eywa. In the ones I know won't betray me for no other reason than it's convenient for them." The two rose, bade their goodbyes, mounted their _ikran_, and were gone.

He sighed and stared after them as they left. The three stayed that way, staring long after the two _ikran_ had vanished.

Norm broke the silence first, "At least they were polite this time."

"Casualties from the fight probably woke Jake up a bit, and probably reminded the clan of just how much death that fighting humanity will require." Katrina murmured.

"What do you think Eywa will decide?" the tall scientist asked of the air.

He knew it was rhetorical, but Max answered anyway, "Who knows. She's the intelligence of an entire world, we can only guess at whatever logic that drives her, but somehow, I don't think she's going to trust humans anymore than Jake is, and the Na'vi aren't much for giving second... third? Fourth? Extra chances."

They all sighed, almost in unison. "Let's get inside then, call Weigand. I don't thinkhe'll be shocked. Maybe we can negotiate some of our research, get them to promise to the reclamation anyway." Max spoke, taking charge as best he could, and the three headed inside.

* * *

**Date**: April 17th, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"They really are devoted to this goddess of theirs, aren't they?" Weigand mused, leaning casually once more against the old armory block.

"If humans could speak and listen to god, we would be too." Max pointed out.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Though a fine philosophical debate, that is not what we're here for." the _Oberst _clapped his hands together lightly, "So, you wish to trade much of the research you've worked on during your stay here, in exchange for us reclaiming the lands both here and upon the ending of the lives of the mines near Tartarus."

"As well as promising not to initiate more hostilities with the Na'vi." he pressed, "And stop your over-hunting program."

The other man frowned and seemed to mull it over. "The first is easy enough, as I said, we have no desire to go beyond our current borders, or to engage the natives unless engaged first. The latter, however... the attacks have died down sharply in the last few weeks, perhaps we can at least cut back on the hunting, and if the attacks do not increase once more, we will cancel it all together."

He narrowed his eyes, "How do I know you'll keep your word?"

"You don't, Dr. Patel. All you can do is trust. I know that I speak the truth, and as long as I command Tartarus my word is law. I have laid out what we shall do, if you do not like it, that is your problem. If you do not trust us, there is nothing I can say to convince you, and this is a waste of time." Weigand spread his hands apart, "Do we have an accord, or shall I leave now?"

_Dammit dammit. He's right though,_ a voice whispered in his head, _you're human, not Na'vi. You can't just link to each other and know the truth, or ask a goddess for help. You're on your own, just like he is. The bottom line is.. do I trust him? _"Fine. We'll give you some research now, more when you stop the hunting, and the rest when the reclamation projects are underway."

Weigand gave him a little military bow, "That is more than acceptable. Always a pleasure, and until next we meet." He clicked his heels, and moved off to his waiting Samson.

Max sighed, moved over to the shade were Weigand had been leaning, and rested his back against the wall, signaling Katrina and John as he did so.

Just because Eywa and her children prepared for war did not mean that Max could not still try to stop it. If he could get Weigand and the UN to start the reclamation, and stop hunting, maybe then, just maybe, Eywa would have second thoughts. If she could see that humans truly did intend to heal the damage they had done to her.

He sighed and moved towards their battered Samson as it set down. It was a long shot. A huge one, but it was all he really had left.

* * *

**Date**: April 18th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

They argued a while over what to send first, eventually deciding on most of their flora research, minus Norm's work on Eywa.

"So," Norm spoke up during dinner. "No word from the _Omaticaya_, but that's probably good news. If they're getting ready to attack, they'd warn us. I hope. They would right?"

"Probably." it was John who replied, "Jake still counts you as his friends, so he'll probably give you a heads up. Mind you, it will probably be right before the fight, not a ways in advance. So who knows."

"Max, you think the UN will hold up to their agreement?" Katrina asked from her lounging place on a cot.

He hastily swallowed some stew, "I do. If, for no other reason, than I believe him when he said they planned to do most of it already. Plus, I don't think they brought many scientists, if any, so having more information on the planet will only benefit them."

"You hope." she pointed out.

"I hope." he agreed.

Norm glanced over as he picked up his and John's bowls, putting them away. "Weigand say anything else interesting?"

He shrugged, "Apart from seeming surprised at their devotion to Eywa? Not really."

His friend frowned, "Why is that surprising? There's still a lot of religion back on Earth. I mean, it's not like it used to be, but it's still there"

"Take it in context Norm," Katrina pointed out, "We've been here a long time, Eywa is a fact of life to us. To most humans, even the believers, the level of devotion the Na'vi show Eywa borders on zealotry, especially given on how a lot of human religions are still pushing so hard on tolerance. The Na'vi refusal to even _think_ about compromise when it comes to Eywa's will seems extreme to us, because we have don't have a similar paradigm. We can't just link into our world and listen to our ancestors sing or feel Eywa in our very bones, we have to make it up as we go and hope we got it right."

Norm blinked. "Didn't think of it like that before," he admitted. "Should have, considering how long we've been here. You think we'll ever achieve technologically what the Na'vi have with nature?"

"Being able to link to each other, to the world around us?" Max shrugged, "Probably could, but we probably won't. In the end, we humans are alone, and deep down, we like it that way. The idea of losing even the tiniest piece of our individuality is something most humans would never accept."

John chimed in from the floor. "Having lived with the Na'vi, I think it all boils down to the differences between Earth and Pandora."

Everyone blinked and looked at him, his spots flared brightly as he blushed, "Me and Miguel debated it a bit. Darwinian evolution doesn't really occur here, or if it did, it stagnated thousands of years ago, after Eywa achieved balance. On Earth, everything is always competing, changing, evolving, fighting, and dying, all the time. Here, even though there is hunting, fighting, death, there isn't much change or evolving. If the Na'vi stories are accurate at all, they haven't really changed their society or the way the live since they discovered language, and that was over five thousand years ago. The climate differences are probably a part of it too. Even in the colder regions, their idea of a severe winter is laughable compared to some of the stuff I saw on Earth, and I never went that far north. They don't even have words for 'tornado' or 'hurricane' either, they couldn't even image it when I tried to describe them."

Max nodded as he spoke, "Grace and I used to talk about that kind of thing too, wondering which world's way, in the end, is the better way to live. We've got knowledge, power, technology. But we also have poverty, starvation ,disease."

"The Na'vi are more content with their lives than any human is," John confirmed, "And Eywa provides for them. But... but maybe it's just the human in me, but I never really _liked_ the idea of her determining my fate. Of living the same way for the rest of my life. I like making my own choices, I like learning new things, experimenting, changing. It's why I never became a member of the clan. Part of me wants to become like they are, but the rest of me.. the rest of me still craves the knowledge that only humans desire."

"The Na'vi saw the stars, and accepted that Eywa determined they could never go there. Humans saw the stars, and laid their lives down so that others could touch them." Norm said quietly, "Something one of the Avatar guys who left with the RDA told me. Didn't like him at all, and he was wrong most of the time when we argued, but I couldn't think of anything to say to that."

Max rose up and stretched, "All right guys and girl, enough amateur philosophy for tonight. We should get some sleep, we need to find out what Eywa intends as soon as we can, so we're heading out scouting tomorrow. If this is going to degenerate to a fight, we need to be forewarned about it.

* * *

**Next up: Interlude II – Fallible Gods**

I'll admit I waxed a bit philosophical in this one. I'll try not to do it again, which should be an easy promise to keep considering that the situation is about to really heat up.

That ends Act II: Arrival. After the interlude we'll have Act III: Upheaval.

Hope you're all still enjoying my work, the number of views exploded today, so I know people are reading, but some more reviews would be nice. : ).

**Who am I kidding, I always want more reviews. Hope ya'll keep enjoyin.**


	22. Interlude II: Fallible Gods

I don't own Avatar.

* * *

**End Act II: Interlude – Fallible Gods**

**Date**: May 1st, 2170

**Location**: London, United Kingdom, Terra, Sol System

"Cambodia's government fell last night. Rioting is tearing the country apart, and there probably isn't an end in sight." Kim, a middle aged woman of Japanese descent, was reporting, flicking trough a report. She continued, "That makes three in the last year. Myanmar is still in anarchy, and Ethiopia is back on its feet, but is under a military dictatorship."

Wallace wanted to punch his desk in frustration. _We held the world together for all these dammed years, but now it's all starting to unravel, with the end so close we can almost taste it!_

Charles, his friend and the current head of the American-continents network, spoke up next, "The public in the Americas is concerned, but not overly so. The mass-increase of actual food over the last few years as the reclamation project moves across the Great Plains region has everyone feeling rather calm and content."

"It is similar here in Europe," Wallace reported as the Secretary-General's gaze landed on him, "People are ecstatic about the lowered costs of real food from Russia and America. Beyond that, the reclamation projects remain as popular as ever, but most people are not overly concerned about what is happening in Asia or Africa. As far as they're concerned, their lives are fine, and that's all they care about."

The elderly man, effectively the leader of the human race, rubbed his eyes tiredly. "If we resort to military operations, what kind of backlash can we expect?"

"Bad. The other Asian and African nations will probably take it in the worst possible way," Kim reported, "They'll take it as a threat of military force if they don't stay in line, and the people are already getting sick of the media running so many vids of Europe and the Americas becoming green again."

The tanned Egyptian agent leaned in, "What about mustering public support for it before hand? Leak horror-vids of what's happening in those nations to the media, especially in those regions, to get them to act?"

"Probably our only chance." Kim replied with a nod, "Won't be as effective the farther from those nations you get, but running them constantly for six or seven months should give us enough reason to be able to move in. With your permission Secretary-General, I can start on that right away with the media corps. We can concentrate on India and China. Probably Pakistan as well. As long as those three are behind us, everyone else should follow, if for no other reason than no one wants to piss them off."

The Secretary-General seemed to take that it in. "That will do." he said finally, sounding both very old, and very tired. "I will call a full meeting of the United Nations in four months to discuss the issue. Hopefully by then public perception will be enough to bring pressure on their governments for military intervention in those nations. I do not want to wait, to leave those people like that.. but I don' see that we have a choice at the moment."

Wallace grimaced. _The old man is starting to feel it. Only been two years, but his idealism is already crashing down_. _I feel for him. Being the leader of the United Nations during what could become humanity's darkest hours...it's bad enough being where I am, knowing what I do. Depressing to realize just how fragile the lie we're living is. He knows more than I do about what's going on. Exactly how bad things are, how bad they could become. We still have seven years until the shipments resume. _

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, glancing at his computer as everyone else began to stand and leave. _It's all in the hands of those we sent, and they're light years away with no way for us to help them if things, god forbid go to hell. _

Letting his head fall forward, he rested it on his hands, trying to will away the depression that had overcome him. Wars, probably a new variation of the resource-wars of the early 22nd century, would probably break out before the unobtanium began to arrive again. There wasn't much they could do about that, save delay it as long as they could. Another World War... that _had_ to be stopped at all costs.

_We barely survived the first two, and the third was a hairsbreadth from annihilating us. The fourth would finish the job. Dammit, we're not going to go out like that. _

Steeling himself, he rose his head and began to compose a message to Pandora. They were due for a report in any case, and though he doubted they forgot, he would remind them the stakes they were playing for.

* * *

(extrapolated from low-bit code words)

To: UNEF, Pandora

From: UNG, Terra

Situation worsening. Three Governments fallen. Brush-Wars imminent.

Worse on horizon. Request haste. Failure not option for humanity.

Good luck. God be with us all.

* * *

**Next up: Act III: Upheaval, Chapter 20: So It Begins**

Glad to see people enjoyed the last chapter, as I always am. Here's another short interlude about things back on Terra and how things are starting to fall apart there.

Review responses:

robby cartwight & sana-dracios: glad you both liked it. It is something that I don't think a lot of people realize.

andreyrus: I know I know. I have the characters and situation like I want it, but i'm having a hard time getting the emotional aspect out like I want to. Hopefully you'll see some improvement in that in the next few chapters.


	23. Chapter 20: So it Begins

Ya, so, I dunno if anyone could have guessed it, but I don't own Avatar.

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**Chapter 20: So It Begins**

**Date**: May 2nd, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site Zero-Two, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker was stretched out, oddly comfortable, in the spare seat of a Helltruck as it trundled from Tartarus to the unobtanium mine. Rather than mindlessly stare out of the windows, he was going over the reports from the last month so that he could build averages and expectations moving forwards.

It had been, thankfully, a slow month since the fleet had left. Their rusting barriers had slowed, though not stopped, the attacks by the local creatures. Though they had managed to convert over half the junkyard into their new, less than shiny spears and barbed wire, Weigand had requested that they leave it at that. The old man had pointed out that without an STG plant, the junkyard was their only source of additional sheet metal for repairs or any other crazy ideas that they managed to come up with.

Captain Jones had managed with what he had been allowed to use. Working with Kozlov, they had concentrated the sentry guns on the areas where the 'barriers' were the weakest, the end result being identified 'kill-zones' around each mining site. The road had been deemed critical enough that it had been fully barricaded along both sides. While there had been some very close calls during the construction phase, once finished, the barriers of metal and men had been able to hold.

That suited Parker just fine. He could now head to the mining sites to talk with his foreman and crews without needing a full AMP squad escort every time he hopped into one of the trucks, and those trucks no longer needed to move in convoys. This allowed for a far steadier flow of material between the base and the mining sites, in turn resulting in an increasingly large pile of unobtanium slowly accumulating within Tartarus.

_Let's see... we're back to being on schedule, and Augustus thinks we might be able to pull ahead in the next two weeks, assuming the attacks don't pick up_. He tapped the screen on his tablet lightly before scrolling down, marking several check boxes and generally acknowledging that had read and approved the report.

"Been a good month, hasn't it sir?" the driver spoke up, noticing him put down the screen and relax even further.

"It has," he agreed, "No blue monkeys sighted, mining is back on track, barriers are holding, morale is good even though the hunting trips have stopped."

"And we won that last game against the Germans." the driver pointed out, a broad grin on his face.

Parker grinned as well, "That too." Originally he had not cared about the football games that were scheduled every week, but he had taken a personal interest in his civilian team when he realized that it was a good way to get under both Weigand and Thomes' skin. They both took the games _very_ seriously and he delighted in pointing out that his _civilian_ miners had beaten both of their teams.

"Got Kozlov next week though," the driver grin faded into a slight frown, "The ruskies are the only other undefeated team."

"We'll win," he assured his subordinate, "and then it's an easy stomp against Jones after that."

That seemed to cheer the other man up a bit, and he waved goodbye cheerily when Parker hopped out after they reached the foreman's station.

Waving back, Parker headed towards the small prefab. A pair of the soldiers assigned to guard the area nodded to him as he passed, their eyes snapping back to the jungle as he moved on. Even from here, he could see several dark shapes, unmoving, in a nearby 'kill-zone'. A much larger shape, probably a Thanator, was sprawled out across a section of their barriers. Even from his distant view he could make out the blood that was staining the ground near the corpse.

_Still not safe. But better at least. We haven't lost anyone in two weeks now, and the beasts must have realized they can't get us anymore. That, or Thomes' hunting plan worked. _He shrugged mentally. _Either way, we can get back to schedule now, and that's what's important here._

Entering the dull, rectangular building, he nodded to Augustus as he happily stripped off his mask. Tossing his tablet and paperwork onto a convenient counter, he settled down in front of the small holotable and began to work out how to best expand the mine over the next month while remaining within their perimeter.

The pair had been working for perhaps and hour when the sentry guns began to chatter in short bursts of harsh noise.

He ignored it, and so did his foreman. The sound of sentry weapons firing was nothing new to either of them. They went off every few hours as something stupid inevitably showed up. A few seconds later, however, the heavy _thud-thud-thud_ of an AMP suit opening fire reached their ears.

_That_, he did notice. AMP pilots did not unload at anything for no reason. Feeling a shiver of fear run down his back, he immediately rose and moved over to the window.

"Can't see anything from here." he cursed, and turned instead to the holotable. Something had tried to enter what the table labeled 'Kill-zone-02-C'. The computer registered its thermal scan as a Na'vi, and a wounded one. The sentry guns had probably shot it as soon as it entered the clearing, and ceased fire when it stopped moving in a coherent fashion.

He saw several arrows wing out from the jungle and rebound off the AMP suit, which promptly opened fire once more. The computer was not having any luck in identifying targets in the jungle, the range and the, hopefully, low number of hostiles were working against the limited local sensor net.

Several of the local soldiers had rushed to that area, leaping into pre-dug fox holes. More arrows flew out as they did so, and the return fire quickly became a blanket of noise, even within the prefab.

Stabbing several buttons on the table, and willing his hands not to shake, he brought up communications, "Ops center! This is Administrator Selfridge, Mining Site zero-two is under attack by natives! Repeat, we're under attack!"

The communications officer did not waste time, "Affirmative sir, I'm sounding the alarm immediately. Redirecting the on-duty Samsons to your location now. Is your location secure?"

"I think so, yes." he was a little breathless as he watched a human id suddenly flash red, a small label stating 'KIA' appearing as an arrow imbedded itself in a fragile body. "We're in the mining control shack, there's at least one soldier and one Na'vi down so far."

"Affirmative Sir. _Oberst_ Weigand has arrived, putting you through."

Her smooth voice was replaced by Weigand's germanic rasp, "Parker, this is Weigand. Stay at your location. I'm in touch with Kozlov and will handle the fight. Again, _do not leave_ that prefab."

He cut the connection before Parker could respond. Glaring, and still struggling to keep control of himself, he resumed watching the battle.

Like the previous night engagement, the Na'vi were not getting close enough to be seen. Arrows were instead flying in from what he guessed to be long range. His attention instantly snapped to the sentry guns when their tiny icons blinked bright yellow, the computer pausing before updating their labels as 'Stand-by Mode'.

Panicking, he began to try and bring up the command and controls for the turret grid to override it when a pair of Samsons roared overhead, their agile shapes slewing into place near the now disable guns. Not pausing, they began to slowly glide towards the trees, door guns roaring at targets below.

"Oh." he said aloud, feeling a bit stupid. _Weigand was right. I'm not at all cut out for fighting. Why the hell does this always happen to me?_ _All I want to do is mine this shit, maybe save humanity, definitely save myself, get paid doing it all, and then go home dammit_.

That the natives seemed to have a penchant for attacking when he was nearby was getting old to him. And worrying. Was this another attempt to kill him? He shuddered, _Maybe I better have Augustus start heading to the base to talk to me, instead of the other way around_.

The arrows ceased firing all at once, and the gunfire petered out shortly after as the soldiers lost the easy way to track their targets. Several tense minutes followed, before the AMP suit slowly began to move towards the injured blue-skin still laying within the kill-zone. One of the Samsons moved forwards slowly, covering the walker's advance. They reached the savage, the AMP seizing it in one hand before beginning to move cautiously back to the relative safety of the perimeter.

The two gunships moved out over the woods once the metal suit had returned, flying low and scanning the area. Another Samson roared down shortly after, rapidly offloaded numerous troops before the native was hoisted in. It was airborne again almost immediately, racing back towards Tartarus.

What felt like a lifetime to his too-fast beating heart, but what was only a mere fifteen minutes in real life, passed before an all clear was sounded. Kozlov strode through the airlock even as it sounded.

"What happened?" he asked the Russian, forcing himself to speak slowly, so as to prevent his voice from shaking.

"The moron who tripped the sentry gun looks like a kid. Or he's just short. We've got what looks like one more body in the jungle, and blood for a wounded one, maybe two." his accent, usually impeccable, was present now, "We lost one of our men, and another was injured. It seems hostilities have resumed. We've got another Samson en route to take you back to the Ops Center, the _Oberst_ has called a full meeting of the staff."

* * *

**Date**: May 2nd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"As I am sure you are all aware, there was an incident with the native population at our unobtanium mining site this morning. One of the attackers was wounded, and another killed. We had hoped to question the wounded one, but unfortunately he died en route to Tartarus." Weigand was addressing Parker, Thomes, and their various subordinates in the base's main conference room. "Our best guess, given what the native was equipped with and wearing, is that it was another scouting party sent to evaluate our defenses. More importantly, however, they did not bear the markings usually associated with the local tribe."

Sulfurous but quiet swearing greeted the last remark.

"They're calling in reinforcements, just like last time."he spoke up, already convinced, "They're going to attack again."

"Possibly." the _Oberst_ nodded, "Thomes, anything to report?"

Irritation flashed across her face, "Nothing unusual, or I would have contacted you."

Weigand glanced at her, nodded, and then resumed, "At the moment, we assume it was a scouting party. Adler, I want the patrol schedule changed daily, no reason to make their recon work easy for them. Jones, Parker, make sure the defenses around the mining sites are secure. Kozlov, keep your men on their toes."

Parker frowned, "Are we ever going to go after them? Or is the plan to just sit on the defense?"

"Unfortunately, Administrator, we are in the unenviable situation of having several fixed locations to defend, without a solid airborne reserve. For now, we remain on the defense. That is not, however, to say that we will not be prepared to counterattack when needed. We'll keep _Brunhilde_ on alert, along with our Samsons. If they attack us _en masse_, we can intercept them and thin the numbers with her heavy guns long before they arrive."

"As long as our entire plan isn't to sit back and defend." Parker said, feeling a little defensive as everyone stared at him. He had been trying to learn at least the basics of warfare, the terminology, simple tactics. Not that he wanted to fight, but because he was sick of not knowing exactly what was going on around him. "Do you think they'll actually launch a full scale assault like we saw at the Tree last time, or some kind of raid like we saw here?"

He shifted in his seat. Everyone was still staring at him. Thomes' eyebrows had vanished beneath her bangs and the military men looked surprise that he was the one asking the questions.

"If I was in their place, I would continue to scout until I had identified a major weakness, launch raids to distract and disperse us, and then launch a full assault against that point." The _Oberst_ replied after taking a moment to consider. "Currently, our weak areas are the kill-zones around the mining sites. I don't like how few sentry guns are placed there, but we have no more to put into position, and given the size of the mining site, placing more soldiers runs the risk of them being surrounded and trapped should it come under heavy assault."

"So... would they retreat down the road then?" he asked.

"Yes." It was Kozlov who replied, "If there is a full-scale assault on either mining site, our response would be to immediately withdraw the mining teams back to Tartarus and fall back along the roads as rapidly as we can."

Parker frowned, "And abandon the mining equipment?"

"We're getting the heavy equipment in the next shipment, and the STG in the one after that." Thomes pointed out, "Easier to replace equipment than lives Parker."

"I know that," he scowled at her, "But if they attacked say, the unobtanium mine, couldn't we also withdraw the equipment from the gravel mine since it's closer? If we had the time? We could always abandon it en route."

It was Weigand's turn to frown, "_If_ the time is present, and _if_ the natives attack in that order, then yes, your miners could attempt to remove their equipment with them. But make no mistake, if it comes down to the crews or the equipment, the equipment is gone."

"I'm not arguing that, just trying to keep as much of our limited gear as we can. I know what's more important, but we need the lighter stuff for mining too, we can't just use the huge excavator for everything."

Weigand nodded to him before rising, "If that is all the questions, you have your orders."

* * *

**Next up: Chapter 21: Unheard Prayers**

And here's the start of Act III. Was originally going to be much longer with some philosophy and a bit about life on the base, but a combination of sudden writers-block and a realization that the events after this did not mesh well with the attack and the meeting (plus it would have been the longest chapter yet) caused me to remove it until 22.

Hope you're all still enjoying, glad to see the reviews as always, thanks guys, even if some of ya'll have different opinions : ).


	24. Chapter 21: Unheard Prayers

I don't own Avatar, how about that eh?

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**Chapter 21: Unheard Prayers**

**Date**: May 3rd, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

It had been an uneventful two weeks since they had sent Weigand their data. The small group had hunted, gathered, researched, and more or less lived just as they had for the last decade and a half.

The only good news had come in a week ago, when Katrina and Norm had returned from a hunting trip to report that they had run into a Samson patrol from Tartarus.

Katrina had been able to sweet-talk the pilot into revealing that they had, more or less, stopped their extermination flights, relying instead on some new defenses that the engineers had thrown together. She had also managed to get out that the survey of Hell's Gate and its attached mine was to be the first of several over the coming weeks.

Max had felt cautiously optimistic about that. That Weigand seemed to be holding his word was massively good news as far as he was concerned, but he was keeping his optimism tempered. Things could always go wrong, and at the end of the day, he could only trust Weigand so far.

"There's no reason for us to rush this," he had told everyone after they had all gone over the information, "We'll give them another two weeks before we send them more data, make sure they don't start their hunting trips up again."

Everyone had agreed on that.

In hindsight, he knew he should not have felt even as slightly optimistic as he had. Nothing on Pandora had ever gone to plan, not in the twenty plus years he had been there.

The call came in just before dinner, the caller id proclaiming it as being from Miguel. He almost broke his neck rushing over to activate it. They had not heard from him or Dana since John's exile.

"Miguel! It's Max, what's going on? You haven't called in weeks!"

"I know, I know," his Avatar friend's voice was low, whispered, "I've had to keep my head down and go with the flow after they kicked John out. I'm not exactly what you'd call popular over here Max."

He frowned and glanced at Katrina, the only other person in the shack with him, before resuming his questions, "What's going on over there Miguel? Are they going to attack? What did Eywa say?"

"It's still crazy. They've got warriors from all different tribes coming in to start trying to raid the humans, they want to launch a huge attack but Jake's reigning them in at the moment, says it's a bad idea until they've weakened them." their friend spoke in a rushed tone, speaking as quickly and quietly as he could while still managing to be intelligible, "Neytiri and Mo'at both communed with Eywa, the feelings they got is that Eywa is even more pissed at the humans for something new they did."

"Something new?" Katrina asked, "They stopped the hunting, are going to start reclaiming the mine site, there's nothing new to be angry about, right?"

_Something new. _The thought clicked in Max's head, "The pilot said they had 'new defenses' to keep the animals out right? Must be something about those, whatever they are. Maybe mines or something?"

Miguel replied, "I dunno man, but I don't think the people are in any mood to negotiate anymore. Jake's got scouting parties trying to find holes in their defenses so they can launch another raid, and with everyone thinking Eywa supports driving the humans out, I don't think there's anything me or Dana can say. We're just trying to keep our heads down and avoiding getting in fights with the other Avatars."

He winced, "Dammit. Go, Miguel, before someone catches you talking to nothing. Contact us if anything huge happens, but stay out of trouble as best you can."

"Sorry I didn't have good news Max." their friend apologized before he cut the signal.

He had just started to slump backwards into his seat when he heard the sound of something slamming into metal.

"Dammit! Dammit Dammit!" Katrina swore, punching the wall again. "Everything we've tried to get them to listen, to not attack, and they're ignoring it! It's going to happen all fucking over again!"

"Shit! Katrina! Calm down!" he stepped up, grabbing her arms as she went to continue her abuse of her bleeding fists and the wall.

Norm and John, naturally, chose that moment to walk in. "What the hell?" the gawky scientist asked as he saw the bloodied woman struggling in Max's grip.

"Help me dammit!" he shouted, an elbow slamming into his gut. Norm raced over, John carefully moving in and setting their food far to the side before also helping.

Between the three of them they managed to get her calmed down and into one of the cots.

"Katrina, what the hell was that about?" he was massaging a bruise on his cheek.

Her sigh was almost sub-vocal, and her voice was.. cold, emotionless, "Why do we still try Max.. why the hell do we bother... they listen to Eywa, not to us... the humans.. just do as humans do.. _veni, vidi, vici_.. They were always going to fight.. fight for unobtanium... fight for eywa... I'm sick of it.. sick of trying so hard to stop the fighting.. only for no one to care how hard we're trying... neither side wants to compromise.. both say they're fighting for their survival.. and I'm sick of them. Both of them."

Everyone stared at her as she finished her slow, inexorable speech.

_She's been keeping that bottled up for along time now_ he thought to himself, _not health.. not healthy... but then again.. aren't we all keeping that buried?_ _The frustration of the tribe not listening to us, of the humans returning to repeat what happened before? Are they truly here because humanity is self-destructing? _

He sat heavily in his chair, silence hanging like a thick fog in the shack.

_A war is going to start soon. Not a fight like lat time, this time.. this time the humans aren't going to cut and run, and far too many will die... _Depression slowly settled over him, _Was it our fault? Did we not try hard enough? Was there anything we could have done to stop this madness?_

"There's nothing we could have done." he whispered quietly. "We did everything that a handful of people could do to keep peace... and we didn't even delay the war at all."

"We didn't." she agreed, voice remaining disturbingly slow and exact, "And soon fire and death will spread. If the Na'vi win, maybe humanity dies. If humanity wins, maybe Eywa dies."

John spoke quietly, "Logic says that that Eywa and her Na'vi will win once more, through overwhelming numbers if nothing else. But the casualties... it'll destroy more tribes than we can count."

"And do we trust Weigand?" Norm asked, slumping slowly down to the floor, staring at his feet, "Is unobtanium really our species last hope? If they Na'vi win, is that it for the Earth, would we be the only humans left? Three scientists trapped in a bunch of prefabs on a hositle world.. the only remainder of a dead species?"

"I don't know Norm," he answered.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours. Dusk turned to darkness outside as they sat. Their food grew cold.

"If the Na'vi win... what will happen to us?" Norm asked finally.

Katrina's still emotionless voice responded, "We die. They don't kill us, as long as we stay out of the way. Maybe help them. But eventually this world will kill us. We can't stay lucky forever."

A choked sound in the dark shack, "Like the others.. eaten..?"

"Probably." was her response, Max could dimly see her shrugging.

He could hear Norm whimper softly. "Dammit, show some sensitivity." he snarled.

A bit of light glinted off her eyes as she glanced at him, "Oh. Right. Sorry."

The silence deepened.

John spoke, "You're only chance to ever leave would be for the humans to win."

Max winced, he had thought of that as well. "But you wouldn't be able to come with. Nor Miguel, or Dana. And do we want to leave?"

No one answered for a long time.

"Yes." Katrina replied, finally. "I've had enough. Enough of trying to help those who don't want it. Enough worrying if I'm going to wake up in the morning. Just enough of it all."

Norm remained quiet.

Max sighed, "I don't know if I'm ready to give up yet. We're trapped between to irreconcilable worlds, and I know that we don't really have any chance of peace at this point, but I can't just give up. I swore an oath to protect life, all of it. I'm going to remain true to that."

"I don't have much choice, but I'm with you Max." John spoke quietly from the floor.

"Norm?" he asked gently.

"I'm... i'm with you... just.. just remember the promise." his friend's shaky voice responded.

"I will. Katrina? You want to leave then?'

He heard a sigh. "Yes. But you idiots wouldn't have a chopper then, or a pilot. I'll stay, for now, but if the UN manages to win this, I'm going home."

"I understand." he did. He really did. Part of him longed to return to the Earth, as shitty as it was, it was still home. It still held the lure of a place where he would not have to worry about his next meal, or whether or not he would even wake up the next morning. But the rest of him... the rest of him reminded that portion of his soul that he had an unfinished job to do. "Let's get some rest then. We can eat in the morning, and we'll work out what our next move is."

* * *

**Date**: May 4th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Katrina was acting more normal by morning. Her voice still had a brush of coldness to it, but she was at least smiling a bit. Norm seemed better as well, but for him it felt forced. Like he was putting up a brave front for everyone, while desperately trying to forget what had been said.

John seemed as calm as ever, carefully making small talk as they ate. He seemed more worried about Norm than himself, but then again, he had known he could never go back to being human long ago.

Running a hand through his increasingly more salt, and increasingly less pepper, hair, Max started speaking. "All right everyone. We need to go over how we're going to handle this. First, we need information. Miguel will give us what he can, when he can, but we're also going to need to know that the UN is up to. I'm going to call up Weigand today and fish for information. I don't think I'll get much, but it's worth a shot."

Norm spoke up, "Me and Katrina can head over to Hell's Gate, see if that survey crew is around again."

"Good idea. John, this is going to be dangerous. I want you to head over to Tartarus and see if you can figure out what those 'new defenses' are."

The avatar frowned, then nodded. "That I'm wearing clothes should stop the humans from shooting, but it might take me a while to avoid the Na'vi patrols you said Miguel informed you were in the area."

Max nodded, "I know. This is probably going to be a long term project, and it's going to take a lot of luck for us to find something to get both sides to sit down and talk like civilized beings."

Katrina chuckled quietly at that, "At least we know we're still human."He blinked at her, and she laughed harder, "What other species is insane enough to do something like this?" Still laughing, she headed to the airlock, no doubt to start the preflight check list on their aged Samson.

Shaking his head, but feeling glad that she had at least made a joke, he turned to Norm, "Keep an eye on her, try to make sure she doesn't lose it again."

"I'll try." his friend promised, "But I dunno man. I never thought she'd flip out like that."

Max grimaced before starting to head inside, "Norm, we've been here for fifteen years, watched our friends die, and are on the edge of failing to uphold our oath entirely. That it took her this long to crack a bit is amazing."

Norm called after him, "What about you?"

"Me?" he paused before turning to Norm, "Norm... we're all walking on the knife's edge of sanity here. Her. You. Me. John. We can't stop to think about that.. not while we still have a chance to try and stop this."

He headed inside. _And if I stopped to think about it, I'd snap too. I don't know if I'd get as violent and uncaring as her, or withdraw completely into myself in depression like Norm, but I don't want to find out. _

He shook himself, _Enough introspection, there's work to be done_.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 22: A God's Might**

And our good scientists are starting to break down as nothing goes right for them, on top of the fifteen years of isolation. Hope you enjoy it, trying to flesh out all of the characters a bit more now that we're in the third act.

Probably going to slow down the pace of updating, down to a solid once a day instead of a random amount each day, hopefully that will keep writers-block and any kind of burn-out at bay for the duration of the fic.

Review please, I like reviews, make me enjoy writing when I know I have an audience.


	25. Chapter 22: A God's Might

Yep. Still don't own Avatar, only my OC's.

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**Chapter 22: A God's Might**

**Date**: May 12th, 2170

**Location**: _Explorer's Dream_, High Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centauri A System

Whenever he was in space, looking down on a world he felt... different. It was not the lack of gravity, he knew that stomach churning feeling all too well. It was not the comforting surroundings of technology, relieving to his psyche after far too long on a jungle death world. It was something else.. the view perhaps.

He could not even describe what was different about it. He had felt the same above Terra, back home, gazing at the brown and blue world as he had left for this mad mission. Even his glimpses of the Moon had stirred the feeling. Now here, staring at the deceptive Pandora as it crossed before Polyphemus, he felt it once more.

Maybe it was the sight of single, small orb amongst the stars that reminded him of how alone they all were, in the end. Or maybe accentuated that, in the end, the universe was a desolate place, where the strong conquered to survive, and the weak perished in the cold void..

_It doesn't matter,_ Parker slowly tore himself from the view, forcing his thoughts back to his reason for heading up to the _Explorer's Dream_.

Weigand had been hammering the importance of morale on their people, especially as isolated as they were, so far from home. Though the football tournament helped, and the recent building-craze to get their rust-barrier in place had also done well in bringing their people together, the old German liked to make sure that morale was always at its peak.

And so Thomes had come up with the idea of occasionally having the high-level staff travel up to visit the wounded taken to the _Dream_ for care. They had drawn lottery to see who would go up when, and today was Parker's turn to visit the four wounded miners still aboard. That it meant an, effective, day off of reading boring reports and the ability to leave the loathed world below was an additional perk for himself.

Resuming his path along the interior of the ship, he carefully hauled himself along the bulkheads until he reached the first of the spinning crew compartments. In an improbable stroke of logic, the 'hospital' on board was located as near to the airlocks as possible to ensure rapid treatment.

Feeling much more comfortable in the low gravity, he descended the long ladder into the main compartment.

The smell of anti-septic and overly strong cleaning supplies hit his nose immediately, along with the very faint coppery taste of blood.

He winced at the last, stomach churning a bit more. His memory played several clips of both Na'vi and humans being slain before his eyes.

Controlling his gorge, he nodded to the on-duty nurse and headed into the forward recovery section. A solid dozen beds had been carefully crammed in the small area, but thankfully, only half of the beds were currently filled, two of their occupants apparently asleep. The rest were watching what looked like re-runs of an old comedy on a screen mounted on the walls.

"Administrator!" One of his miners noticed him first, and he vaguely recognized the man from the unobtanium mine.

_Lawrence_, his memory poked at him, _His first name is Lawrence... was a veteran of Hell's Gate. Got wounded in the raid, still being treated for burns._

"Lawrence," he nodded and gave the man a polite smile, "How is the leg? Burns healing all right?"

The man seemed stunned that Parker knew his name, and it took him a few moments to collect himself, "Y-yes sir!" he managed to stammer out, "Should be good to work in another week or so, at least, that's what the doc says."

"There is no rush," he assured him, "Let it heal. We need everyone back at full health."

"Sir?" a female voice asked from one of the other beds. "Did we win the last game?"

_Brittany Phelps. Truck driver. A viper wolf tried to tear the cabin apart. Being treated for atmosphere exposure and lacerations on her left arm. _ It was always helpful to know the people you were meeting. Not only did it make you look good, it made them like you more, which, to him, was a massive double-bonus. Being a jerk-ass boss got you nowhere in life, whereas being a sympathetic boss made people _want_ to do their best for you, which made him happy, them happy, and the stockholders happy. Everybody won that way.

Parker beamed at her, "We did indeed Ms. Phelps, 3-2 in overtime. Our mining crews have the distinction of having won the first Tartarus football season."

She laughed a bit at that, as did Lawrence. The two wounded soldiers grumbled good-naturedlly, and Lawrence introduced them.

"The skinny pale guy is Rodriquez, and the big pale guy is Wolfgang. They got wounded last week with Brittany, when the wolves got through the perimeter." the young miner explained.

"Pleased to meet you," he smiled his professional smile at them, "I trust that Captain Thomes has been treating you all well?"

Wolfgang laughed, "_Sie ist der Todd nach einem fussballspiel_." he said, and seeing Parker blink, translated, his accent thick, "She is death after a football game, her men have not won enough to suit her."

Everyone laughed a bit at that. Parker glad-handed and made polite chatter for a while more, discussing the construction still going on on base, as well as the plans for the next football 'season'.

"They've pushed back the start date from next week to two weeks from now, and I keep hearing rumors that instead of teams by our profession, they're going to try and organize it more like the clubs back on Terra," he was telling them the latest gossip as a nurse brought in food, "But personally, I think that Thomes and Kozlov are just trying to find a way to break up my mining team and find a way to avoid us stomping Jones in the first round."

After maybe another hour, he bade his goodbyes and told them to give his greetings and well wishes to the two unconscious miners before he headed back up the long ladder leading to the ship's core.

He was smiling a bit as he paused once more to gaze down on the world he had to return to. He knew that he had done what Weigand would call a 'good service' to his men. Cheering them, reminding them that he _was_ human, not some faceless bureaucrat. He really was not quite sure why he was smiling though.

_Maybe Weigand's right. Maybe I am getting a bit more attached to my species, to the people working for me. Or maybe.. maybe it's just because I figured it out._

He knew what felt different, hanging in the void above the world. He imagined it was the same feeling as the first aviators had possessed, as they had turned their gazes to the world below and the sky around. For all the chatter the natives had about the 'beauty of nature' and life and all that hippie-nonsense. This... the ability to gaze at a world from the stars, to know that you had the power to go anywhere in existence that you desired.. this was beauty mixed with power, a drug so potent he could almost taste it, and it was something for humanity alone to covet. Something that those pathetic natives would never be able truly experience.

Feeling immensely cheered by his own thoughts, he headed back into the Valkyrie, ready to get back to work.

* * *

**Date**: May 13th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A

He was still looking at the hostile planet through rose-colored glasses the next day. His subordinates had picked up on their boss's better than average mood, and were using it as an excuse to relax a bit. That as not to say that they were neglecting their jobs, but the ratio of non-work to work conversation was massively skewed compared to normal.

_Let them have some time,_ he told himself, _We don't have to stress out every day over staying on schedule_.

Making his rounds, he chatted about golf with Augustus, lamented over the loss of his favorite clubs after their exile from Hell's Gate, talked football with some of the on-duty communications officers, and generally relaxed as well.

He even shared his snack food with some of them.

By lunchtime though, things had calmed down a bit, and everyone had slowly gotten back to work. As regretfully as everyone else, Parker resumed working with Augustus on how to position their main excavator when it arrived, and later called up Jones to argue the proper set up for the refinery.

"I'm telling you Administrator, a set-up like Hell's Gate is going to be too impractical here, the sheer _size_ of that facility blocks too many of our existing defensive guns. A primarily underground facility is what we need." the American Captain argued.

"Captain," he countered, "There's no way we could get that done in any reasonable amount of time, and from the message we received at the start of the month, we need to get it done _as soon as possible."_

A frustrated sound came over the comm system, followed by "All right, here's what we do. You draw up your plans and I'll draw up mine, we give them to the _Oberst_ at the staff meeting tomorrow and we see which one he approves of."

"Fine." he cut the communications and immediately pulled up the old blueprints. Gathering his staff, they started working over the design on the main holotable.

Some part of his mind was dimly aware of time passing, while the rest was far too concerned with finding a way to shrink the massive facility's size into something more compact. And so it was with a great deal of surprise when chaos erupted around him. The communications officer had shouted something that he had not caught, then the command center had become overwhelmed with shouted questions and barked orders.

Parker blinked and looked around. Daylight had turned to dusk outside, and he could the rapid movement of soldiers moving into positions outside.

He felt his throat ache as he shouted to be heard, "A drill?"

"No sir!" the primary communications officer likewise bellowed back, "Blue-skins at Site zero-two!"

It took several seconds for that message to sink into his brain. Which then erupted in diverging streams of thought.

_Fuck! Not again!_ Was immediately followed by, _At least I'm not there this time!_, which, in turn, was followed by _Shit! The equipment!_

Calling up his own communications protocol, he activated his link to the gravel mine, "Site 01, come in! We have a native attack at Site zero-two! Get your asses and your gear back here!"

Haskos, the taciturn foreman on-duty there, could probably hear the alarms through the link, "On it Administrator!" he shouted, and promptly hung-up.

Even as he did, Augustus minimized the blue-prints and brought up the image of the unobtanium mine. Yellow icons for several mining trucks, each noting that numerous miners were taking refuge inside, were headed down the road. The red icons marking Kozlov and his security detail were clustered around one of the kill-zones, and the system was drawing thin lines from their position to the jungle as they and the sentry turrets fired. He didn't see any markers representing natives, but there _were_ small icons representing incoming fire flashing from the jungle to the entrenched Russians.

The foreman brought up the communications chatter, which was useless. Everyone was speaking and shouting in Russian, which he did not understand in the slightest. In sounded bad though. Or at least, the occasional scream, usually coinciding with a red icon vanishing, certainly did.

Weigand's voice broke across the master channel, causing a temporary silence, "Kozlov! Report!"

"Mass native attack!" the _Kapitan_'s voice was broken up by the heavy gunfire of an AMP suit. "I've got four men down, three wounded, several dozen blue-skins at least!"

"I'm scrambling the Samsons and _Brunhilde_ now, hold fast!"

"Affirmative!"

Parker could already see Samsons starting up, the running lights of their monstrous Valkryie flicking on as she was brought to life, the lights slowly rising as her bulk heaved off.

Part of him hated the powerlessness he felt staring at the holo-image of men fighting and dying. He hated not being in control, and to watch the small icons vanish, knowing that a mere two kilometers away, men and women were dying nauseated him. The rest of him was damned glad he was not there, and was fully appreciative of the fact that he was safe in the mixed stone and concrete Ops Center.

The battle, meanwhile, continued. Flying blue icons had arrived, and fire warning markers began to spread over the mining equipment.

_God dammed savages!_ He screamed mentally, punching his fist against the table's rail, _It's another god-dammed raid!_

Though it was just a gut-reaction on his part, it seemed true enough. The natives in the jungle continued their harassing fire, while the banshee-riders had swooped in around the kill-zones, avoiding the bulk of the sentry turrets, and dropped more of their copy-cat molotovs onto the mining equipment. This time, though, instead of all of them winging away at high speed, some of them lingered, firing arrows from on high down at the ground at the vulnerable soldiers below.

It cost the morons their lives.

Suddenly the icons shifted, the mounted warriors attempting to flee. He barely had time to blink before the massive icon labeled '_Gunship-01 Brunhilde_' appeared above a tiny representation of the massive shuttle. Cheering erupted around the table as the blue-skin fliers simply vanished when the Valkyrie opened fire. Samsons swooped in behind her, their darting shapes depositing reinforcements to the ground before rising and assuming escort positions around her.

Cheers could now also be heard over the comm system as the massive ships slowly banked over the jungle, and the computer struggled to accurately depict the explosions on the ground as all three of her heavy 40mm cannon began firing high-explosive rounds as fast as they could load and fire.

Five minutes later, it was over, and yet another battle was replaced with its ugly aftermath.

* * *

**Date**: May 13th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Total count, seven of my men are down and out. Eight more are wounded, one might not make it." Kozlov reported, covered in sweat and grime.

Though it was now well past midnight, that had not stopped Weigand from immediately calling a full-staff meeting once the battleground had been secured. Thomes and Jones were missing, the latter had taken a fresh group of his men to the mining site to guard against a possible second attack, and the former was at her usual home in orbit.

"Native casualties are harder to analyze. _Brunhilde_ got half-a dozen fliers right at the start, and we think we've found the pieces for a dozen or so more on the ground. Optimistically, between the gunfire and her heavy ordnance, maybe thirty dead, unknown wounded." he finished.

"And since we didn't pick up anything leaving the area save for the smarter banshee riders," Adler put in, "I'm think we can assume we annihilated their ground force."

Parker spoke up, "Which is good. But we did lose several men, and the _did_ burn up two of our excavators real bad, as well as our prefab command building out there. It'll take a week just to get the equipment fixed, and the building is a total loss."

"Agreed." Thomes' irritated voice came from the speaker in the center of the table, "Unfortunately, seven for thirty is a trade the natives can make."

"Perhaps." their commander appeared pensive at the head of the table. "Assuming they're willing to win, at literally any cost, yes they can make that trade. But if reports from the Tree of Souls battle are accurate, then the enemy _did_ break and run in the face of superior firepower."

He frowned, "You think this will scare them away?"

The _Oberst_ shook his head, "Not a chance. But it will knock them back on their heels. _Brunhilde_ is something they could not have expected, and it will take the blue-skins time to come up with a new plan. There is also the matter of their behavior during the battle itself."

A burst of German caused a momentary pause of confusion, before an embarrassed looking Adler spoke again, "_Ja._ That some fled, rather sensibly, after torching the equipment, but the rest stayed."

"The locals have called in support, and tried to train them. But it wasn't complete." Kozlov rumbled, his thick brow furrowed in thought.

"But why?" Parker blinked, frowning. "Why attack us if they're not ready? That doesn't make any sense, and as much as I loathe him, Sully never struck me as a complete military idiot."

"Maybe.. maybe something else is pushing them." Thomes' disembodied voice spoke once more, "Maybe they think their god is pressuring them to act? Perhaps Dr. Patel might know more on that, didn't the information he gave us mention something that their 'god' could be an actual organism of some kind?"

"Augustine ranted about that," he waved a hand dismissively, "It was psychedelic nonsense, and confusing nonsense at that."

"Probably," Weigand agreed, "But still, perhaps it does bear investigating. Thomes, I need to be on site to handle things here. I'll need you to contact Dr. Patel come morning. Feel no need to be discreet in your questioning, and remind him what species he is a member of."

"I will." the speaker clicked as the line went dead.

"Everyone else, get some sleep. _Hauptmann _Jones and I will handle the remainder of aftermath, and tomorrow we can begin the unhappy affair of laying our dead to rest once more."

With that, the _Oberst _left the room, no doubt headed for the Ops Center to oversee the remainder of the mop up.

Stretching and yawning, he rose far more slowly and began to make his way to the finished tunnel connecting the apartment complex to their command center.

_Figures. A day that started out well, cannot end well, _he thought bitterly as he made his way to his room.

Several minutes later, collapsing into bed, he dreaded awakening the next morning. For the hectic chaos of a massive increase in his workload would be there waiting for him, and standing on its coat-tails would be the depression of watching yet more flags slowly consumed in funeral pyres.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 23: A Cold Dish**

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and the resuming of the heavy action, there's still more to come.

Please, please, please with sugar-cookies on top review! I really like hearing what everyone has to say about my work, and it inspires me to write more, and write better.

**Review Responses**:

Robby Cartwight: STG plant is the Stereolithography Plant (should actually be abbreviated SL, will probably change that), used to manufacture the parts to make just about anything (save advanced computer systems), as long you had the raw materials to feed it. Why Eywa is pissed about the rust-barrier will be gone over in the next chapter, when John makes his report to Max.


	26. Chapter 23: A Cold Dish

I don't own Avatar, and am not making money off of this.

* * *

**Chapter 23: A Cold Dish**

**Date**: May 14th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"It's bad over there, Max." John was gulping water, sitting on the floor of Max's shack. Katrina was sitting on Max's cot, and Norm was sitting in a chair behind John.

"They've got some kind of barrier going on, except it's not a wall. It's a field of sharpened metal shards, barbed wire, razor wire, metal spears, you name it. Watched a _yerik_ fleeing from some _nantang_ blunder right into the area... tore itself apart trying to run through it. The pack hunting it didn't fare much better, none of them died, but they all got torn up real good before they managed to get back into the jungle."

"Son of a..." Max ran a hand through his hair before massaging his temples, "Doubtless its effective at keeping the wildlife at bay, but that's beyond needlessly brutal in its method of doing so."

"Yeah. And if that wasn't enough, I lost count of the number of Na'vi scouting patrols I ran into, they're really looking for a way into that place." John winced a bit here, "And they're looking really pissed at finding the local fauna all torn up and cut up from the metal and wire."

"I can imagine," Norm spoke up, "I was expecting a huge wall or something, or a line of sentry guns maybe. At least those kill outright, don't leave the animals to suffer."

Katrina shrugged, "Desperate times and desperate measures Norm. I'm sure a few of the humans there aren't real peachy on the idea either, but if they're low on resources.."

He sighed, "They'll do anything to survive, no matter how brutal."

His friend shrugged her shoulders, "It's who we are, one of the defining characteristics of our species really."

"Tell me about it." he muttered, "So. You and Norm weren't able to talk anyone out of anything, John's got nothing but even worse news, and Weigand's been real cagey about anything he says to me, not that I can really blame him."

"In short, we need a new plan." It was Norm who elected to state the obvious.

"Yeah."

They sat in silence, frowning at one another. At the floor. At the ceiling. At the windows. All trying to think of a way to stop what was happening.

After nearly an hour, they had nothing. Though Max had noticed several spots on the ceiling that he had never really noticed before. Thirty-seven of them, in fact.

"Screw this." Katrina stood up, "We can't think on empty stomachs. Let's get some food and sit around after."

Max and the other two males muttered their agreement, rising to help.

He peered into the fridge, "Looks like we still have _yerik_. Cooked or stew today?"

"Cooked. I'm sick of stew." Norm replied, turning on their small oven and finding a frying pan.

After a half hour of preparations, during which the small troupe were able to relax, if but for a while. Katrina hit Norm with a pan when he tried to cut the meat for her, and proceeded to berate him for sexism, whilst Max and John took turns carefully tossing vegetables into a pot. They were sitting down to a lunch of _yerik_ and fruits in a much improved atmosphere when the computer started chiming.

Frowning, Max stood and made his way over, tapping a finger to activate the flashing comm system.

"Camp Augustine." he greeted genially, good mood not yet dissapated.

"Dr. Patel." a female voice he did not recognize responded. "This is Captain Maria Thomes of the _Explorer's Dream_."

"What can I do for you Captain?" he asked, trying to remain polite as everyone else frowned at him.

"As I'm sure you aren't aware, there was another blue-skin raid on our forces yesterday." he winced at the term 'blue-skin', "We lost several men, but annihilated the attacking force. We were, however, confused as to their tactics. They showed some of the training Sully apparently impressed upon his tribe, but were obviously not ready for combat."

He tried to pick up where she was going with this, "And you think we know why they fought anyway?"

"To be blunt, yes. Administrator Selfridge and your earlier report mentioned that there might be a creature behind this goddess of theirs, is it possible that it is convincing them to attack at any cost?"

"Well.." he frowned, "Give me a moment to confer with my compatriots." he muted the link and turned back to the table.

"Another attack," Norm was shaking his head, "And the humans think they weren't ready for combat?"

"They did say they slaughtered them," John put in, "Which doesn't make much sense to me. Jake seemed pretty adamant about not attacking until he had everyone trained up."

"Which argues that their new barrier system _really_ pissed Eywa off with how it's maiming everything that tries to cross it." Katrina finished, "And that she showed her rage about it to the Na'vi, and they, being them, decided to start right away instead of waiting."

Norm let out a weak chuckle, "Bet Jake isn't happy, I mean, I know he believes in her now, but he's still pretty military on the inside."

He shook his head and reactivated the link, "It is possible." he admitted. "There is a biological truth behind Eywa, but it's also just as likely that the Na'vi were intensely angered by your new barrier system. If you remov-"

"Out of the question." the feminine voice snapped. "We know it's not perfect, but it's all we have the resources for, and it's _working_. We're not going to watch any more of our friends be maimed, killed, or _eaten_ just for trying to do their jobs."

He winced. _Shot down before I even started. Not the most auspicious beginning._ "Captain, there isn't much I can say about this. We _do_ have some research on the subject, but it is far from complete. The Na'vi are understandably wary about letting outsiders study their goddess, and in addition, that information is to be the payment once the reformation project is underway, we will _not_ part with it before then."

A strangled, angered sound came over the comm. "Dr. Patel," she sounded like she wanted to throttle him, "Our people are _dying_ here. Does being human mean anything to you?"

He winced, a low blow, even though her bitchy tone did much to alleviate the sting, "It means a great deal," he said quietly, "And that is why I'm still trying to find a way to keep the peace here."

"Tell that to the young man who died on the operating table this morning, or the others who died defending the civilian miners yesterday." she snapped.

Norm leaned forwards, "Captain, is there anyway you could, I don't know, evacuate to the ISV's? At least until we can calm the Na'vi down for you?"

"There are no ISV's up here."

He blinked. "But, what are you the captain of? And how did you get here?"

"The _Dream_ was modified into a permanent space station upon arrival. We don't' have the fuel to return to Earth. We could sputter around the solar system, that's a bout it." she took an audible, apparently calming, breath, before resuming matter-of-factually, "The rest of the fleet departed after allowing their engines to cool. This is our species and our world's last hope, we could not afford to allow a moment of panic to undo it all."

The four of them stared slack jawed at the computer, "You mean," Max managed to get out, "You're trapped here?"

"Not the term I would use, but yes. We cannot retreat. If the Na'vi come for us, we fight to the death. If that is all the information you have, then good day. We will be in contact again." she cut the link.

Max let his head slowly fall forwards until it hit his desk with a soft thud.

_Things.. just keep getting better and better don't they?_

* * *

**Date**: May 14th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

They all sat around the table, eating mechanically. The soft sounds of forks and knives the only volume in the room.

He broke the silence first, "We need to tell Jake about this, if he'll listen to us."

"What good would it do?" Katrina countered.

"I don't know." he admitted. Telling Jake that the humans would fight to the death.. might accomplish nothing. Or it might accomplish something. "If it's between fighting a battle to the last man or negotiating.. maybe he'll choose negotiating."

"You hope." she shot back.

"I hope." he agreed. "I don't think that the UN will be pissed at us for telling them, but then again, they might be. You still with us?"

She sighed, but nodded, "I said I was Max. I'm not gonna back out on you."

"All right then, you and Norm head into the tribe's territory and tell the first patrol you run into that we need to talk to Jake. Try not get shot please." They chuckled weakly, not that he was really joking.

"John, I need you to man the radio, try and raise Miguel if you can. If you can't, I also need you to work on some of Norm's research into Eywa, see if there's anything you can add to it. Fact, rumor, ideas, anything." he continued.

The huge Avatar nodded, "Sure thing."

"All right. I'm going to go through the rest of our notes and see if there's anything we can try offering the UN in case we manage to get Jake to agree to sit down and talk. Once you two are back," he nodded to Norm and Katrina, "We'll head out hunting and swing by Hell's Gate, try one more time to chat up someone."

_It's not much of a plan, or much hope really, but it's what we have_.

And as long as they had any hope at all, he would keep trying. They couldn't let humanity destroy Pandora with war, couldn't let the Na'vi do the same, and neither could they sit back and watch as their species died.

_Stuck between a rock and a hard place Max,_ he told himself, _just need to find something to jam between them, to prevent them from colliding._

Far easier said then done.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 24: Burning Pyres**

Come on guys and gals, tons of viewers but only one review? Please please please let me know if you like it, hate it, whatever, just so I know that there _are_ people truly reading it.

Hope everyone enjoyed the latest foray into the mind of one Dr. Max Patel, even if this one was a bit short. His will get longer soon, they can't sit on the sidelines forever.

Also, if anyone is wondering why unobtanium is being held as the only hope of humanity, and why none of the humans are considering moving pandoran plants and stuff to Terra, that will be gone over in a few chapters, promise.

Once more,

**REVIEW!**


	27. Chapter 24: Burning Pyres

I don't own avatar, but anyone who's read the previous 23 chapters, prologue, and interludes knows that.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Burning Pyres**

**Date**: May 14th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Eight more wooden pyres stood on the blackened ground next to the main runway. Six tri-colored Russian flags fluttered slightly beside a pair of blue and yellow Ukrainian banners.

A small sea of humanity stood at attention, gazing at the eight small shapes atop their wooden beds. Soldiers in their camouflaged field uniforms, miners in their working gear. Parker stood with his men, staring silently as the Russian company sang quietly. He had no idea what they were singing about, but it sounded mournful, a song of loss.

He made a mental note to ask Kozlov what song it was later.

The flame bearers stepped forwards as the song quietly continued, lowering their torches to the pyres, the flames roaring to life as they began to consume their new fuel. The bearers quietly set their torches along each pyre, before carefully stepping back from the heat and returning to attention.

He sighed as the song drifted to an end and the crowed began to disperse. They all had work to do, now that the funeral was effectively over. Only the flame-bearers would remain until the ashes cooled.

Heading back into the Ops-Center should have been welcome change from the hot outdoors. Even for Pandora, the day was unusually warm, and standing as near to the pyres as he had been had not helped. But the gloom of what had just occurred had already spread through the base. Everyone was quiet inside, a few occasionally glancing out the broad windows to gaze at the small fires still burning. The usual chatter of people was present, of course, but there was an dark undertone to it today. Most of it was technical, none of it was cheerful.

Parker understood the shadow hanging above them as he headed into his office. Everyone knew it, knew the score. The blue-skins had raided them twice now, and been defeated both times. But both times, humans had died. Equipment had burned. Ammunition expended. Emotions frayed. How long would they keep attacking? How long until they launched a full-on assault instead of a small raid?

No one knew. Weigand had called another meeting, but this one was for his combat staff only, neither he nor Thomes had been invited.

Which was mostly fine with him.. and yet it was irksome. He knew that he did not really have any place in a strictly tactical meeting, his minor studies over the last few weeks into military tactics did in no way qualify him for making military decisions. Yet he_ was_ the civilian Administrator of the colony, and it would have been nice to be kept in the loop.

He sighed and began to open the reports from his foremen, the top message blinking urgently.

* * *

**To**: Administrator Selfridge

**From**: Foreman Augustus

_Two excavators at Site zero-two down, leaving only one still functioning. Might be able to fix one of the damaged vehicles by sacrificing the other, or else will be forced to wait until the Comet's Lament arrives in August. Recommend sacrificing one excavator to repair the other, and taking one excavator from mining Site zero-one until we hit our quota._

Not an easy choice. Pulling up several other programs onto his personal computer, he began to run numbers. Sacrificing one of the excavators would not be an issue. At the very least, the remaining hulk could probably be recommissioned once the _Winter_ arrived with their plant.

The real question was pulling an excavator from the gravel mine to the unobtanium mine. One was the only reason they were there, to be sure, but they also needed the first mine to be running at full capacity in order to finish construction of their base. He also did not have any doubts that the military meeting would result in requests for increased concrete production from his men, so that they could afford additional construction of something or another.

He shook his head and fired off a response, authorizing the repairs but denying the request for the additional excavator until it was decided that it was completely necessary. The quota would have to wait, survival came first.

And so the day dragged on. Reports from Haskos merely noted that they had returned the equipment and were back to work, and from Augustus stating that they had also resumed work, though at a very slow pace with only one functioning excavator, and most of his men were working to repair the second by cannibalizing the third.

A brief lunch break, which revealed a cafeteria as equally bleak as the Ops-Center, was in turn followed by the resumption of working on the blueprints for the refinery. Which, naturally, dragged on into the night. He did not run into any of the senior military officers until dinner, when he spotted Adler sitting alone in the cafeteria.

"_Hauptmann_." he greeted, sitting down next to the other man.

"Administrator." the junior German officer replied.

"How was the meeting?"

Adler shrugged, "Typical. Attempting to work out a better defensive system against the banshee-riders, but with our equipment being so limited, hard to do. Jones is going to try building dedicated anti-air bunkers and using our spare machine guns to fill them. Glad you stopped by, was my job to find you and tell you, in any case."

He frowned, "Won't we be out of spare heavy weapons then, after the upgrades to _Brunhilde_?"

"_Ja._" the other nodded as he calmly ate some of his pasta. "But we have few options. He wanted to use spare assault rifles as well, but Kozlov reminded him the we may need to arm your mining teams before the end, and pistols alone will not suffice against the creatures here."

A wince at that point, followed by a nod. "Glad he was reminded of that. Where's he positioning the new bunkers?"

"At the mining sites. That was the subject of most of our discussion actually. We risk losing them there, true, but it will help much in defending those locations, as well as serving as bastions. Jones intends to make them as impregnable as possible, miniature castles almost, so that Kozlov's men can man them in case of an assault, and hold until a counter-attack."

Parker frowned some more, "I'm not an expert, at all really, but isn't that really risky?"

"Very. They will be cut off and surrounded, with no real method of escape. If we can't get to them, they're only option is to die as heroically as they can," came the blunt answer. "If the natives attack both mining sites at once, or, worst case, all three of our locations, there will be no reinforcements to send them."

Another wince. "Then why do it? Why not, I don't know, put them just at Site zero-one, or here on the base?"

Adler ticked off points on his fingers, "The base's anti-air defenses are already built into the main structures. Retreating down the road to Site zero-one from zero-two could turn into a bloodbath if the enemies numbers are high enough anyway. And lastly, by staying behind they can tie up as many enemy forces as possible, giving us a chance to eliminate the enemy piecemeal, first here, than at zero-one, and finally at zero-two."

He mulled that over. _Practical when put like that, but still, it could easily turn into a suicide mission for those that stay behind_. "And Kozlov agreed to this?"

"It was his idea." The German shrugged.

His appetite was vanishing fast. "What about my miners at both sites?"

The other had to quickly swallow some food before speaking, "The fortifications should be able to hold off the enemy while they retreat here. If the numbers are overwhelming..." his voice trailed off.

"They'll have to head into the bunkers." Parker finished for him.

A nod. "They'll be built with additional weapons inside, in case of that eventuality, but yes. Preferable to being eaten while trying to run, _ja_?"

It was a better alternative, but not by much. He rose, taking his food to the trash. His hunger had died as they had talked, and he bid Adler good night.

_Yet more good news to tell my teams_. He thought darkly. _Screw this. I'm going to sleep before the day gets worse._

* * *

**Date**: May 15th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Thomes came down the next day with the last of the spare heavy weapons, along with what news she had managed to pry from Patel.

"Not much I'm afraid," he had approached her as soon as the Valkyrie landed and started offloading, "Apparently they think there might be something to the idea that their goddess or whatever is pressuring them to attack soonest. Apparently they don't like how the new barrier is cutting up their precious animals."

He snorted as they walked towards the Ops-Center, "A few cut up beasts is a small price to pay for the attacks stopping."

"More or less what I said," she replied, "I also told him about how we can't retreat, that more than anything seemed to stun him."

Parker blinked and frowned, "Think that will influence him any?"

"No idea, but I'm hoping it'll make him realize the gravity of the situation for us."

They stepped into the airlocks and eagerly removed their exopacks before she continued speaking, "Reminding them that they're human didn't seem to have much of an impact, but it was hard to tell. I think they're still clinging to the hope that they can negotiate something."

He laughed out loud at that, "Would have thought Patel would know better than that."

A small smile tugged at her mouth as well, "One would think. If the natives attack us again, however.."

"Not if, _when_." he stressed, "This is two raids we've suffered through so far, and Weigand told me this morning that he thinks the next time is going to be a full-on assault since the raids have failed."

A grimace this time from his female compatriot, "That's something else I needed to tell him, but he seems to be on it. We've started to pick up increased heat blooms around several of the local home-trees."

"They're massing." his stomach felt like lead weights had just been dropped into it.

"Yes. Currently, we're guessing maybe a thousand gathered at four different trees, more at Sully's than elsewhere. If their current rate continues, maybe ten thousand in a week and a half. Mabye two."

Numbers flashed in his head. "Ten thousand natives, plus whatever fauna attacks us this time, against a little over seven hundred humans, only half of which have full combat training?"

She nodded silently, "Not good odds at all. But we're creative bastards, we'll think of something." She gave him a slight glare, "Preferably something that does _not_ involve tearing apart any more of my ships, Parker."

He held up his hands in defeat and chuckled a little before heading into the conference room.

Everyone else was present, and the female Captain wasted no time in going over the facts she'd already told Parker.

The military men reacted much the same as Parker had, grimacing and staring at the images she brought up on the screens along the wall.

The _Oberst _sighed, leaning back in his chair. "So, at our best estimate, we have a week and a half until every native clan within several hundred kilometers is present and ready to fight, then maybe two days travel time by their dire horses and banshees until they attack."

Parker leaned onto the table, "I'm going to start running my men through defensive drills, going over the basic training again."

Weigand nodded, "Yes. Adler, have your men work with them on that. Jones, Kozlov, we need those fortifications done before then. Preferably far before then. I want your people to know them inside and out."

The American captain frowned, glanced at his notepad, and nodded, "I can have them built at both sites in four days, assuming we work around the clock and I can get fifty more men to help. Kozlov's men can finish the interior, and then we'll get to work finishing the defenses here. The buildings aren't done, and there's not way they all will be by then, but we can at least get their guns mounted and in place."

He was already shaking his head, "My men will be busy as hell with the training, plus whatever extra defenses you need built here at the main base."

"I can land my crew." Everyone blinked at Thomes, "We'll keep a skeleton force on the ship and transfer everyone else down to help. That will give you thirty more men, give or take."

"Can you maintain the _Dream_ on a skeleton crew?"

She nodded, "Not terribly long, but long enough in this case."

"_Sehr gut._" Their commander spoke, turning their attention back to him, "This is a good start. Parker, Jones, I also want secondary trench lines around the Ops-Center and Apartment complex, as they're the only complete buildings so far, they will no doubt draw much attention."

Weigand barely waited for them to nod before resuming, "Adler, have your men in the air running formation and attack drills with _Brunhilde_ and the Samsons starting tomorrow. I will begin preparing to brief our personnel. Remember, everyone. Trust, morale, both are key. We cannot retreat, withdraw, or flee. We must stand and fight, surrender is not an option, and failure dooms our species. You all are the leaders of men and women, you must _not_ let them see you give into despair. We _will_ be victorious here, even against the horde that gathers against us. You have my word. Now go, we have too little time to be sitting here."

Everyone stood and began to move quickly, Parker headed to the Ops-Center to call his foremen.

An errant thought flashed through his mind as he did so, _Suddenly, I well and truly do wish that Patel succeeds in his mad quest to get them to stop. Weigand's rhetoric is one thing, but against ten thousand blue-skins! _ He shuddered internally as he got to work, preparing his men to face their possible deaths once more.

* * *

**Chapter 25: Nature's Riposte**

And so the build-up to the main action is beginning, going to be one hell of a fight, eh? Hope everyone is still enjoying, and hope everyone is looking forwards to what's going to happen.

We'll have one or two chapters of preparation before the end of this act, then I'm going to torture you with an interlude, and then we'll see if all hell breaks loose or if Max can stop this coming fight.

**I Command All Ye Who Read To Review!**


	28. Chapter 25: Nature's Riposte

I don't own avatar, not even a tiny piece of it. Damn it.

* * *

**Chapter 25: Nature's Riposte**

**Date**: May 16th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"We're lucky we didn't get shot." Norm was panting, he and Katrina were both gasping for air after apparently running the entire way back to their camp.

"Lucky? They _did_ shoot at us! If we didn't start shouting in Na'vi they would have killed us!" she protested.

Max tried to stop an argument before began, "Wait, wait! Who shot at you? The _Omaticaya_?"

His lanky friend shook his head, "No, a different tribe's warriors. Pey'ral and Unil were nearby, thankfully. They heard the commotion. Pey'ral beat them up a bit, and Unil promised to send Jake to talk when he had time."

"What were the other tribe's warriors doing out there?"

"Patrol I think. Unil gave us the impression that there was a lot of them nearby, I think they're massing to drive the humans out Max."

"Shit." he ran his hand through his hair, stopped halfway through the motion and glared at his hand. He was getting sick of his tic. "Did she say when Jake would be by?"

Katrina nodded, "Tomorrow, at the earliest. Said that _Toruk'makto_ wanted to speak with us anyway."

"Enough time to hunt then. You two rest up for a bit, then we'll load up head out to Hell's Gate, see if we can get a _yerik_ and, if we're lucky, run into a UN patrol and see what they know."

His two friends eagerly moved inside their respective shacks while he headed over to the Samson. He had no idea how to fly it, but Katrina had taught everyone how to do the initial pre-flight list. It had been a bit of forward thinking on his part, all those years ago, making sure that anyone could jump in an warm it up if they needed a quick retreat. He went through the list, his aging body going through the motions even as his mind worked.

_Another tribe's warriors patrolling near Omaticaya lands... possibly massing for an attack.. dammit. Time is running out far faster than I thought it would. Maybe Thomes and Weigand are right, maybe Eywa is pushing this, Jake can be a bit spontaneous and bull-headed, but he wouldn't want to attack the humans unless he was sure they could win, and if the last raid is any indication... no.. he's not behind this, I don't think_.

It was true he had not spoken much to his friend over the years, and it was also true that Jake had very much become more Na'vi than _homo sapien.._ but there was something very _off_ about this. It was all too rushed, even for Jake. His friend had calmed down a great deal after having a child with Neytiri, and attacking before the Na'vi warriors were fully trained did not make any sense to him.

He sighed as his hands pulled the final lever, the Samson slowly groaning to life.

A slight snort escaped him, _Come on old woman. You're not yet old enough to die on us. Not when we need you so badly._

As though responding, the cantankerous machine's groan became a more comforting roar, Katrina, Norm, and John all exiting the shacks and trotting slowly over as they heard the engine's start. He scooted over to the copilot seat as their pilot climbed in, Norm hopped into the back with John, who draped his lanky body over their sole machine gun.

_No sense worrying about it now. We need food first, and it's hard to worry about something if you're busy starving to death_.

His thoughts slowly faded as the Samson slowly lifted off, beginning its short trek to Hell's Gate.

* * *

**Date**: May 16th, 2170

**Location**: Near Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Max, where are they?"

"I don't know Norm. Katrina, anything on radio?"

"Nothing in the clear."

He frowned as they slowly circled the area. A _yerik_ tied to each of the Samson's landing skids. The hunt had been good, quick. The Samson's noise quickly scaring the easily startled prey animals into the open, where John had killed them with a well-aimed shot each.

The rest of the trip, however, was not going nearly as well. There was no sign, whatsoever, of the UN survey team that was usually moving around the area at this time of day. The only sign of human presence that they had seen had been a landing Valkyrie roaring overhead several hours ago.

"Try transmitting," he said finally, "Ask if anything is going on."

Katrina nodded, flicked on the radio, and began to broadcast.

No one responded.

They glanced at each other. Normally the UN team would at least pick up their signals and would either be genial and say hello in return, or would be assholes and tell them to shut up and call back later. Total silence was new.

"Maybe they've had some kind of emergency?" John asked over his throat mic.

"Like another Na'vi attack?" Katrina asked in response, voice grim.

He winced, "Maybe. Shit. This is getting worse fast. Take us back home. Keep the radio on though, and broadcast every so often. Let them know we want to talk."

She nodded and brought the Samson into a low bank, heading east, back home.

They were halfway back before someone contacted them, "This is Captain Thomes. And what can I do for several rogue scientists this afternoon?"

"Well, it would be nice to know why you've stopped surveying the Hell's Gate mines for reclamation." Katrina shot back.

"Ah yes. That." He could almost feel the woman shrugging, "New problems have emerged have stopped all work on reclamation. If it makes you feel any better, we've also ceased unobtanium mining operations."

Max blinked, "Why would you do that? Wait..." a sudden memory hit him, a scarred man standing before a satellite image, giving a grim speech about survival. "The Na'vi... they're really massing for an attack, aren't they?"

A moment of silence, "You are quite clever indeed, Doctor Patel. The blue-skins seem to be massing for a full assault at four of the local home trees, we've diverted all of our efforts to digging in an preparing to withstand it."

"I was afraid of that," he winced, "We're still working on a peaceful solution, we might have news for you tomorrow on that."

A sigh, "Normally I wouldn't care about a bunch of blue-skins committing suicide by attacking us, but the odds are going to be heavily stacked here, especially if native fauna joins the fray. Anything you can do.. would be.. appreciated."

It sounded like she was trying to swallow her pride as best she could, "We'll try Captain." he promised, "We'll contact you on this frequency tomorrow with news."

"Acknowledged, though it will probably be Weigand who receives you. Good luck."

"Well," Norm's voice came in as the radio was turned off, "At least we know the humans really don't want a fight."

Max sighed and leaned back, "How many tribes and clans could make it here?" he asked aloud.

John answered immediately, "Quite a few. This the second densest region of the Na'vi population on Pandora, only that archipelago down south has got more. I'd guess.. maybe eight thousand warriors and hunters? Maybe more or less, not sure how much though. It'll take a while to gather them all, quite a few are a ways away."

"So... worst case has the humans outnumbered, what, a little over ten to one?" Katrina asked.

"Yeah, but if it is Eywa who's pushing this, she'll help as well. That's thousands of _nantang_, _ikran_, _palulukan_ who will all jump into the fight. Probably any a_ngtsik_ herds that are nearby as well." John pointed out.

"Translation, it's going to be a bloodbath on both sides." she said what they were all thinking, "The Na'vi will have numbers, but against heavy guns, in dug in positions? They'll win, but it'll cripple the Na'vi for centuries in this area."

"We'll talk to Jake on it tomorrow." he promised, "Take us home for now, we'll go over it more after dinner, and see if we can find arguments to convince Jake to stop this madness."

* * *

**Date**: May 17th, 2170

**Location**: Camp Augustine, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Max, I don't like this much more than you do. I didn't even call the other clans, that was all Eywa." Jake was saying as he sat next to their cooking fire. "I'm trying to get the message across to the others that fighting the _tawtute_ near the Tree of Souls with the flux on our side is one thing, fighting them on ground of their own choosing is something else."

The three humans sat around the fire, listening as Jake ranted. John was stuck inside again, out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Max winced, "It's worse than that Jake. I talked with some of them over the last few days, they can't retreat."

their friend blinked, looking a bit confused, "Huh?"

"Their ISV's left orbit weeks ago. They were serious when they said this is apparently humanity's only hope, and they made sure that no one can back out." he supplied.

"Oh." The former Avatar wiped a hand across his head. "Oh shit. Things just keep getting better."

"Is there _any_ way you can get the clans to sit down, talk with Weigand?" Norm pressed, "Jake, this kind of fight is going to be bad for everyone."

"I _know_ Norm." he snarled, "But no one else is _listening_. I'm all for stopping the humans from hurting this world, but I want to do it the _smart_ way, keep fighting them in small fights with _experienced_ warriors until we've worn them down and they agree to leave. The problem is that no one else wants to fight that way, they don't want to fight like _tawtute_. It's all I _fucking_ hear from every other clan leader when I try and point out how stupid this is becoming."

Everyone grimaced as he continued, "They all know Eywa is being caused pain by what they're doing, the _Tsahiks_ of every nearby clan have been having nightmares for the last several weeks, they want it to end _now_, and everyone expects me, the oh so great _Toruk'makto,_ to lead it."

"What does Neytiri think?" he asked, "Does she agree with you at least?"

Jake sighed and deflated a bit. "Sort of. She's sick of the nightmares of pain, but she wants to trust both in me and in Eywa, and it's hurting her. Her goddess or her husband."

Max winced, "There has to be a way to sit down and talk with them."

"Max... at this point I almost agree with you, but Eywa thinks that the humans are parasites, like a virus, here only to destroy, cause pain, and to take, and she isn't accepting advice. I think.. I think she might have seen what the Earth became... from Grace's memories I mean.. I think she's terrified of that happening to her and her children." the _olo'eyktan _sighed, shaking his head.

"Could you tell her that the humans are fixing their home?" Norm asked, a note of desperation in his voice, "That they also want to fix the damage they did here?"

"I tried, me and Mo'at tried after the second raid. I don't think she believed it Norm.. humans have betrayed and lied before, and caused great pain to everyone through it."

Everyone was staring at the ground now.

"Will you lead the fight then, Jake?" Max asked quietly.

"I don't see how I have a choice Max." their friend sighed, "I don't want to fight them like this, but if it's Eywa's will.. I'll do it. Because the idea of sitting back, doing nothing while my people fly and ride to their deaths.. no. No way. I can't sit it out. Besides, maybe I can come up with something, some crazy insane plan to keep most of us alive."

They all smiled a bit, though all were a bit forced.

"Another thing.." Jake glanced around, "You guys.. you guys might want to leave the area soon. Maybe move to Hell's Gate or something, while this is going on. A lot of the People don't think you're really on our side, not anyone in the _Omaticaya_, but a lot of the other tribes.. I don't want you guys hurt."

Max nodded, "We will Jake. We can probably hang out in the old Armory block.. but I don't want to give up yet. Or for you to give up. Keep trying man, there has to be a way. There _has_ to."

His friend whistled sharply, and his _ikran _called back in return. "I'll try Max.. but I don't hold much hope of peace at this point. The veterans from the last war.. they don't much want to fight either, but all the young ones were raised on songs of the _tawtute_ being defeated, they think it's going to be a cake-walk.. and everyone is sick of awakening to Neytiri and Mo'at screaming in pain."

Everyone winced once more as their friend mounted his _ikran_.

"When John gets back from wherever you sent him.. tell him I'm sorry." Jake called down to them, "And that I'm glad he won't be in this fight."

With that, he took the skies, his mount winging him back towards his home, leaving behind three human scientists and an exiled avatar to try and pack up everything they would need to live in the ruins of Hell's Gate for several days.

Even as they packed, they argued and debated, trying to find some last measure of hope, something to convince Eywa to listen to the humans.

But when they left... all they had was despair.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 26: The Line**

And here we go. Jake isn't thrilled about what's going on either, but what can be done when a goddess has her mind made up? Tried to go a bit outside the box on this one, depicting Eywa as the driving force behind what's happening instead of the Na'vi like people might have expected.

Hope you all enjoyed, next up will be the humans preparing for the siege.

**REVIEW!**

Review responses:

angelus288: that's mostly what this chapter is for. I know the na'vi aren't that warlike overall, but they _do_ seem to hate humanity a great deal, and many may indeed be becoming what they behold. That their goddess seems to share their loathing for humanity, given the pain caused to her and her children, wold bolster them. I do intend to show more Na'vi who don't want to fight in later chapters, so don't worry.


	29. Chapter 26: The Line

I don't own Avatar, as you well know.

* * *

**Chapter 26: The Line**

- 7 days until projected Na'vi assault -

**Date**: 0800, May 20th, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site Zero-One, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

They had used the excavated dirt to create a man-made hill near where the road and the mining area met. Into that hill, both within and on top of, concrete had been hastily poured to create a make-shift fortress.

His first though on seeing it was that it was as ugly as the rest of Tartarus. Then again, Jones and his engineers hadn't had time to make it look pleasing. Then again, they probably would not have bothered, even if they had the time. The bright concrete clashed horribly with the muted earth it was mounted both onto and into, and looked incredibly out of place when viewed in front of the jungle background.

"Come, we must give your men the tour." Kozlov rumbled beside him, motioning for Parker and the mining team to follow him, as he headed towards the only visible door.

For the next hour, Parker found himself being led around the place. From the outside, it had looked like what it was, the modern idea of a fortress. Bunkers and pillboxes mounted into the ground around the small hill, more mounted into the sides of the hill, and a long, low rectangular bunker with gun slits facing every direction atop it.

On the inside.. it was a rat's nest. The hallways had been built as small as possible while still allowing weapons to be moved along them, the only maps were the ones carried on their pda's, and the lighting system was a combination of the what light could get in through the gun ports and their flashlights.

When one of his miners bitched about it, Kozlov had returned, "The blue-skins will have a hard time moving around in here, much less fighting. We have more to worry about from the local beasts than we do them."

He had a good point, but it was still dark, slightly disturbing, and all kinds of uncomfortable. Several times they had to all crowd into a bunker to let men pass bearing weapons bound for the higher levels. Everyone was extremely pleased to get outside after Kozlov had finished showing them where the armories were and leading them back out.

"Make sure you all have your maps, we can have no one getting lost. Once you reach the armory, remain there. I will give you your orders once the battle has begun and I know where I need you." the big _Kapitan_ spoke to the assembled mining team, "Your foreman will be your commander, and I want no one disobeying his orders or mine."

A general rumble of agreement met this, and he bid them a good day before heading back into the complex to oversee its completion.

Parker sighed and headed over to a waiting Samson. It had been a long several days, controlled chaos had occasionally degenerated into _actual_ chaos as something, inevitably, went wrong, and it had been all he could do to keep his men working.

_At least morale isn't too low. Yet._ He thought to himself as he strapped into the Samson. _Weigand's speeches and his wandering around and talking to the people seem to be helping._

Morale was something they were all worried about. Even with nearly-savage-proof bunkers, the idea of the horde gathering out there was terrifying to everyone. Heavily dug-in positions would not matter if the people in those positions broke down when the attack began. They _had_ to make sure that everyone was willing and ready to fight when the time came. Which.. was a bit of a problem for him. He did not want to be stuck in the middle of the fight. At all. He wanted to vomit at they very idea of it. Being up on the _Dream_, with Thomes and her crew, sounded much better to him.

Of course, he was not so stupid as to actually say that out loud.

_Weigand would just stare at me and tell me to get the fuck back to work_. He grumbled mentally as they overflew the gravel mine, and he waved halfheartedly at the miners and soldiers on the ground near their own bunker-complex.

What was worse, he knew, intellectually, that he _should_ be on the ground when the attack came. All the little morale games he had been doing had caused his RDA mining teams to start actually liking him as a boss, and since they were risking their lives, they expected the same from him. If he left, they could very well break down, which would lead to a slaughter, which.. which meant that he was stuck there.

Sighing once more, he stared out as they flew back to Tartarus.

As soon as the Samson touched down he hopped out and began to head to the Ops-Center. For a second, he thought the Samson was following him, then he realized the noise was more general than that. The second human colony was.. well, loud was a bit of understatement.

Apparently Jones's engineers had started their work on finishing the defensive positions in the remaining buildings, even though the buildings themselves were incomplete. On top of all of their cutting, welding, clamoring, and swearing, they had apparently impressed Thomes' crewmen into work digging a trench system around the Ops-Center, adding to their din.

He winced as a migraine began. _Dammit. I'd forgotten how much fun these aren't_.

And if that was not enough noise, Adler had his own men swarming over _Brunhilde_, welding additional sheets of armored metal to her miniature bunkers. More were all over the sitting Samsons, hooking up their missile pods and running tests. A few more were cutting out sheets of metal, trying to fit them to their door guns as shields of some form.

Escaping into both the cooler and quieter Ops-Center was extremely welcome. Only the quiet buzz of conversation and background electricity could be heard, and he felt the pain in his head lessen somewhat. He was really looking forwards to going into his office, locking the door, and trying to relax for at least several hours.

At least, until one of his assistants saw him walk into the main control room and ran over, "Sir, the _Oberst_ has called a meeting, two hours from now, for the senior staff."

Barely managing to suppress a twitch, he thanked the young woman and made his way into his office.

_Two hours..._ he grumbled as he tried to relax in his chair. _What the hell does that old german want now?_

* * *

**Date**: 1400, May 22nd, 2170

**Location**: Conference Room, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"_Another_ Valkyrie appropriated! I _know_ you had something to do with this." Thomes hissed at him as soon as he entered.

Warning bells went off immediately in his head, and he held up his hands and spoke, as calmly as he could, "I just got here Maria, I don't know what you're talking about."

From the death glare she continued to give him, he did not think she believed him.

He choose a chair on the opposite end of the table from her, just to be on the safe side. The black eye he had gotten the last time he had pissed her off had started up all sorts of rumors. That they were sleeping together and it was a lover's quarrel, that she had elected to take some revenge for her football team's defeat, and a dozen others. Whenever he had told the truth, people had smiled sympathetically and nodded their heads, politely waiting for him to leave before laughing.

Having to go through everyone giving him sympathetic, or envious, looks every-time he walked past was _not_ something he wanted to go through again.

There was not much time to wonder about what had the Captain in an uproar, as Weigand entered the room and headed to his place at the table.

"_Guten abend alles._" he greeted, taking his customary seat, "A few things to go over. Firstly, our defenses should be complete on schedule, which is of course, very good news. Secondly, we must discuss our battle plan. Although I have already drafted our primary order of battle, we must ensure that everyone will know what their role is when the time comes."

The _Oberst_ flicked a button on his computer, and the lights dimmed as the wall screens activated. "As you know, the blue-skins have grown to, we estimate, between five and six thousand strong. Heat trails indicated the full forces from every major tribe on this continent will be gathered in five more days, and they'll arrive here in two more, if speed is their goal. We must assume it is."

Another button tap, and the screen changed from showing the heat blooms of the enemy, to an expanded map of Tartarus and the surrounding area. Four large arrows, naturally colored blue, showed where the enemy would be attacking from. Two from the north, one from the east, and one from the south.

"Our greatest concern will be the enemy numbers. If, as past experience on this world seems to indicate, the native fauna joins the assault, we will be even more outnumbered than we already are. Our only recourse is to eliminate as many natives as possible _before_ they can reach our primary defenses."

He blinked, "A pre-emptive assault, like Quaritch did?"

Weigand shook his head marginally, "We will hold back until the natives begin to move. Hopefully, Dr. Patel is still attempting to negotiate, and I won't risk any chance of him achieving something." He gestured at the screen as a red arrow appeared, aiming at the southern native force. "Once Captain Thomes has confirmed that the natives are en-route, _Hauptmann _Adler will take _Brunhilde, _the entire Samson squadron, and a customized Valkyrie to intercept them."

"Customized Valkyrie?" this was Thomes, looking less than pleased.

"Unfortunately my dear Maria, yes. We will be receiving new shuttles with our reinforcements, and though I know this will leave you with only one remaining, it must be done. A bit of stealing from _Herr_ Quaritch's idea is needed here, but we cannot turn a shuttle into a bomber. We simply don't have any explosives to spare, or enough to make effective bombs even if we did. Instead, she will be _kamikaze_."

Thomes winced and looked like someone had just gut-punched her.

Parker grimaced as well, "How?"

"She will be slaved to the _Dream_ for control. At _Hauptmann_ Adler's signal, the shuttle will detach in orbit, make a high-speed burn through the atmosphere, and re-engage her fusion engines to accelerate once she nears the target zone." the screen had updated again, showing a side-on view of the diving path that the suicidal ship would take. "We intend to fill her with as much heavy scrap metal as possible. Hopefully we can increase her mass sufficiently to produce a sufficient blast yield to obliterate the majority of the enemy forces. _Brunhilde_ and the Samsons can finish off any survivors, then return, reload, and assault the eastern force conventionally."

Adler spoke up when his superior finished, "We do not know if we will be able to stop them cold. At the very least, we should deplete them significantly, in addition to delaying them. Once we have fought as much as we can, my squadrons will retreat to Site zero-one and hold them there."

The _Oberst_ nodded and continued, "There are few clues as to how the natives will attack. Given the relative directions of the home-trees they will be attacking from, one will most likely assault Tartarus itself. The other will either attack our north-western border, or they will bypass us to attack Site zero-two. Site zero-one should be secure until they are able to overcome Adler. As far as command and control, _Kapitan_ Kozlov will command at Site zero-two, Captain Jones will take command of the outer defenses here. _Herr_ Adler will command at Site zero-one after their return. I will be in overall command and will be personally leading our AMP suit teams, which are our only reserves. If I fall, Captain Thomes will assume overall control from the _Dream_. The Administrator will be in command of his civilian teams, and will handle any negotiations in the event of my death."

Everyone nodded quietly.

Parker did the math. Even assuming they were able to destroy the southern force entirely, and maybe half of the eastern one before their air unit had to retreat, they would still be outnumbered over seven to one. Better than ten to one odds, but not by very much.

"In the end, however," Weignad had gone on, almost as though he was reading his mind, "Our survival will depend upon our morale and our fixed defenses. It will be a hard, grueling fight for all involved. Our best chances rely upon inflicting maximum shock and casualties upon the natives, to entice them to retreat and reconsider."

"I wish we had artillery." Jones muttered, "Some heavy missile batteries or cannon would be nice to have here. The light mortars we have will help some, but artillery would really scare the hell out of them."

"Well, if we survive, we know what to have the stereolithogropy plan make you for Christmas." Thomes cooed at him.

Everyone laughed, because the alternative was weeping.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 27: Hail Caesar**

And there we have humanity getting ready to defend with everything they have available. Wonder if their plan will work, hm? We'll be back into Max's head next, as he continues to strive in his efforts to stop everyone from killing each other.

Hope everyone is enjoying, even though this chapter was a bit shorter than normal. Next chapter will be a little longer, and then we wrap up Act III: Upheaval with an interlude about what's happening back on Terra, before Act IV: Heaven's Divide begins.

Again, Review please! I like seeing what people are thinking about my work, and it does inspire me quite a bit to write more.

**So, Review!**


	30. Chapter 27: Hail Caesar

Bet you couldn't guess that I don't own Avatar.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Hail Caesar**

_- 4 days until projected Na'vi assault -_

**Date**: May 23rd, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Hell's Gate still felt like home. Max knew he should be a little disturbed by that, the idea that the rotting corpse of the human output felt more like home than the camp he had lived for years... but instead it felt oddly.. comforting. It still had the feel of safety and familiarity, even as dilapidated and gutted as it was.

They had set up in their preferred location in the armory block, lunging in their cots after sealing the massive doors, and continued their debate.

"I still don't see how we can communicate with Eywa and get her, it, whatever, to believe us." Katrina stated, glaring halfheartedly at Norm.

"How else are we going to do it at this point though?" Norm pointed out, "The Na'vi are going to go along with what she decides, and the humans are both unable to retreat and unwilling to compromise beyond what they already offered."

He brought them full circle, "The humans can't leave, and won't offer anything more than they have. Talking to them won't get us anywhere. We need to talk to Eywa somehow."

Everyone sat in silence for a while.

"So... we need to talk to a _tsahik_, preferably." John spoke quietly, "Find a way to convince him or her to go to the Tree of Souls, link with Eywa, and get her to stop this."

More silence.

"More than that, the only _tsahik_ that we know are Mo'at and Neytiri, and neither will probably want to talk to us, and Neytiri will definitely take part in the fight.." Norm pointed out, "Plus the problem of the Na'vi attacking us as soon as they see us coming."

"So," Katrina continued the thought, "The only way we can even try to talk to Mo'at, who may not want to talk with us at all, is after the war-band leaves."

"That's not much of a window," he mused aloud, "Two days, maybe, to convince her, get her to the Tree of Souls, and convince Eywa to stop the attack which will probably have begun by then."

He sighed and laid fully back into his cot as everyone frowned at that. He continued speaking as he stared at the dark ceiling, "Realistically, even if we're able to convince Mo'at to help stop the fighting, _and_ get her to the Tree of Souls, _and_ convince Eywa to stop the attack, it won't be until well after the Na'vi assault has begun."

Norm grimaced, "And given the numbers involved, and human weaponry.. stopping the fight even an hour after the assault starts will mean hundreds of casualties."

"And that's being optimistic about the timing." John pointed out, "We might be able to get Miguel and Dana to help, assuming that they're not roped into the attack."

Max sighed and shook his head, "We haven't heard from them in weeks, which, given the number of other Na'vi there, is unfortunately unsurprising. If they can help us, great, but we can't plan on it. And the rest of the Avatar team seemed to have fully gone native last time I was there."

"They have." John confirmed, "You might be able to convince some of them to help, if any aren't taking place in the fight."

Katrina raised a hand lazily, "Another problem, Mo'at doesn't have an _ikran_, all the riders will be gone, and it takes days to get there on a _pa'li_. We'll have to convince her to ride in the Samson."

"Convince a Na'vi, especially one as spiritual as Mo'at, to ride in a machine? Oh yeah, that's going to be a fun conversation." Norm grimaced.

"You have a better idea?" their female compatriot returned.

The lanky scientist shrugged, grimace still in place, "Not really."

"So," He clapped his hands together lightly, "We have a plan. Now, what do we do for the next four days to maximize its chances of working?"

"Well, we'll need to know when they launch their attack, so we can head to the _kelutral_ as soon as we can." Norm pointed out, "Which means we'll need to talk to the UN again, as they're the only ones with satellite access."

John spoke up, "And we need to hunt while we still can. We don't have much food here, and we should get it out of the way before the Na'vi move into the area."

"Lady and gentlemen, we have a plan. I just wish we had time for a better one." Max frowned before nodding, "No sense worrying about it, lets go hunting, we'll call the UN in the morning and see if they can give us a warning."

* * *

**Date**: May 24th, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"That's not the best plan I've ever heard."

He sighed. He had not gotten Weigand like he'd hoped, instead he had been put through to Thomes, and she sounded like she was in an even worse mood than the last time he had had the dubious pleasure of speaking to her.

"We don't have time for a good one Captain, and quite frankly we're also very low on options. As long as their deity wants humans gone, the Na'vi want humans gone." He tried to sound reasonable. "Our only chance is to convince her that you guys really do mean to reclaim the lands that you've already damaged, and that you don't really want to be here any more than they want you here."

A snort, "Shouldn't be hard, almost everyone at Tartarus loathes this planet, if humanity didn't need unobtanium, we wouldn't be here. Or if we were here, we'd be somewhere more sane, like the northern tundra. Shame there's no unobtanium in that region, the lack of savages would make this a lot easier."

"It would have made this situation resolve itself easily," he agreed, "So, will you send us a message as soon as the Na'vi begin to move?"

A pause. "Yes. But you'll have to move fast, Hell's Gate is in the path of one of the blue-skin paths, and all things considered, we'd much rather you survive to attempt your scheme."

He blinked, "You _want_ me to succeed?"

"Naturally," came her smooth response, "We're looking at a last stand situation here, Doctor. And if you're promises don't convince this goddess creature of theirs.. tell it that if this fails, the ISV's coming behind us have orders to resort to drastic measures."

A cold chill ran through him, "Drastic measures?" _Please let me be wrong._

"Inconveniencing though it would be, if it means human survival, they _will_ resort to a bombardment of the continent if our attempt here fails." another, longer pause, "None of us want to resort to that level of violence, but if our choices are humanity's future, or the future of Pandora.."

"You'll do anything necessary to ensure human survival." he murmured, remember what Weigand had told him at their first meeting.

"Yes. We will." came the sober response. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to work preparing for this coming storm. We'll contact you on this frequency as soon as we notice them moving."

The line went dead.

"Are they _crazy_?" John demanded instantly, "Would they really _nuke_ Pandora?"

"What do you think?" Katrina shot back, "As a species, we're capable of anything when pushed into a corner. I don't think they'd glass the whole planet, but they'd definitely turn this entire region into a wasteland."

Max held up a hand, "It doesn't matter. We have to succeed no matter what, we already knew that. This is just more proof of what we already knew. Let's get to work, we need to make sure that we can convince Mo'at and Eywa, and do it quickly.

* * *

**Date**: May 24th, 2170

**Location**: _Explorer's Dream_, Pandoran Oribt, Alpha Centauri A System

Maria Thomes sat back heavily in her captain's chair after closing the link. The command center had gone silent as she talked with Patel, and remained so as the small bridge crew stared at their commanding officer.

"Um, captain?"

It was the communications officer, looking at her rather wide-eyed.

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"Does.. are there really nukes on the _Lament _or the _Winter?_"

She snorted softly, "No."

More blinking, "You lied to them?"

"In this situation, I think it's more akin to a bluff, but yes, I did."

"But why? I mean, you don't think his plan his going to work?"

_The poor kid is really hopeless_, she mused. With a sigh, she brought up the satellite images onto her screen. She stared at the masses of savages assembling to attack their base as she responded, "We're out of options, and you heard the good Doctors plan. He might convince them, but odds are, he won't. If he can't convince their 'deity' that we're going to be good and do as we promised.. maybe he can convince them we'll destroy everything in petty vengeance."

The satellite control officer muttered, "We should have brought nukes. Or mass-drivers. Something."

"No sense worrying about it now, and get back to work." she snapped.

Sound rejoined the room as everyone resumed the busy process of maintaining the station and coordinating with the ground.

She sighed again, closing her eyes and resting her head on her hand. Privately, she agreed with her officer. They _should_ have brought nukes with, even just one to use as a demonstration that humanity was not to be fucked with. Weigand and the UN Security Council had disagreed, believing that bringing weapons of mass destruction would destroy much of the popular support for the mission, and their actual _use_ could spell mass rioting across the planet when news got back.

_I might as well follow my own order, no sense worrying about it now_. She laughed at herself mentally before resuming writing a report on the progress of the _Kamikaze_. Between worrying about what could happen in the future, and idly wondering if her crewmen would actually beat Parker's miners _for once_, she would chose the latter every time. Easier on her sanity that way.

* * *

**End Act III: Upheaval**

Next up is Interlude: Hermes Returns

So, I lied about the whole "being longer" thing, mostly cuz the chapter seemed to flow well enough at this length, and making it longer made no real sense given the short time before the fight starts up. Tried something a little different at the end of the chapter, switching to Thomes as a POV character for a very short bit. Given the nature of the chapters ahead, the usual alternation of Parker and Max is going to break down with everything that's going to be happening. Expect small shorts from other character's POV ahead, along with longer segments from the main two. As the outlines stand, the Act IV chapters are going to be a bit on the long side for this story, but nothing extravagantly long. I don't think. Shouldn't be.

**Again, as always, Thou Must Review!**


	31. Interlude III: Hermes Returns

Please see any of the previous thirty pages for the disclaimer

* * *

**End Act III Interlude: Hermes Returns**

_Extrapolated from low-bit code words_:

**Sent**: May 25th, 2170

**To**: UNG, Terra

**From**: UNEF, Pandora

Mass-native assault impending in two days. Outlook grim.

Intend to fight to the last. Transferred all mined materials to orbit.

Will contact in one week. Pray for us.

* * *

**Date**: May 26th, 2170

**Location**: New York City, North American Union, Terra, Sol System

The room was once more shrouded in a deathly quiet.

"And that is how it is." the Secretary-General finished briefing the numerous representatives. There were no citizens in the viewing booths this time. No media. Not until they could decide what to do with the bomb-shell they had just been tossed.

Johnathan Bordeaux stared blankly at the front of the room. _Again.. it has happened again._ The natives on Pandora were once more massing to drive humanity away. He lowered his head, holding it in his hands.

The world was a powder-keg just waiting for the right moment to explode, with a dozen small resource and brush wars were just waiting for the slightest excuse to become multi-national affairs. World War III had devastated the world, left it a brown, rotting shell of its former self. World War IV... This information could be it, the spark that ended it all.

The representative of Great Britain rose, "We must tell the people."

Dozens of people rose to their feet and began to shout. Though it was a in a a multitude of languages, the meaning came across quite clear.

"Are you out of your _mind_!"

Managing to keep his control and remain in his seat, he clasped his hands to his ears and saw several other sitting representatives do the same. They knew what was coming.

The electronic fog horn blasted the room and the shouting died immediately.

"Order! We will have order dammit!" Their elderly leader shouted as best his throat could, "This is a gathering of the leaders of our species, not a conglomeration of teenagers, and I expect all of you to remember that! The esteemed representative of Great Britain is speaking, and you will give him your full attention until I call upon another speaker or I shall have you disbarred from this assembly!"

The standing members slowly took their seats, and the British man resumed speaking, "Yes. Telling people that the situation is grave has its dangers. I fully expect rioting to break out across the world. But what is our alternative? Allowing them to believe everything is fine? What do we say when the first shipments do not arrive, hm? 'Oh yes, we lied about that.' perhaps? Or maybe 'Sorry, we've known our world was doomed for years but thought you too stupid to know.'? We would face far worse then than if we admit the issue now, and if we act quickly, we can be prepared for the fallout of this information."

He sighed and rose, waited for the Secretary-General to give him permission to speak, and began, "As much as it pains me, I agree. Better to get it over with, get people used to the idea that it could be entirely upon the research into synthetically creating unobtanium that our species depends."

There was a general rumble of discontent in the room, and he continued, "All hope is not yet lost, perhaps _Oberst _Weigand and his veterans will be able to hold on Pandora, perhaps all of this worry will be for naught. But far better if people are angered by the situation, not angered at our failures to do all that we could."

The French ambassador rose and began to speak in his liquid language. "Perhaps. We should also be prepared to respond to this situation," his translator spoke, "A full military expedition should be prepared in case they cannot hold against the natives, and this time no holds should be barred. A full division perhaps, with heavy equipment as well as orbital support."

"But how would we get them there in any degree of time?" The South African representative rose, "We would not be able to send them until the main fleet returns in six more years. And it would take almost the entire fleet to transport that many men and that much equipment."

And so the debate began, raging throughout the day and into the night. The vote wasn't called until well after midnight, and that vote was very, very close.

* * *

_Extrapolated from low bit code words_

**S****ent**: May 28th, 2170

**To**: UNEF Pandora

**From**: UNG, Terra

Preparing full military expedition in event of total loss.

Synthetic unobtanium research prioritized further.

Following open-trust policy with civilians.

Riots broken out on every continent.

Church attendance skyrocketed, all faiths.

May God be with you.

* * *

Begin Act IV: Heaven's Divide

Next up is Chapter 28: Morning Star

Another short interlude about the response on Terra to the news from Tartarus, next we're back to Tartarus and we'll see what's shaping up in the final moments before the fight begins.

**Review, review, review!**


	32. Chapter 28: Morning Star

I don't own Avatar, nor am I am making money on this. Which is a shame.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Morning Star**

**Date**: 04:00, May 25th, 2170

**Location** Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The sonic screams of the alarm system awoke him. The ululating wail tore through the base as his body tumbled out of bed in surprise.

Shaking his head violently to clear the ringing in his ears, he rose and dressed as rapidly as he could. His stomach churned as he reached for his polo shirt and tie. He did not realize how badly his hands were shaking until he tried to fasten his tie and found that the hands simply could not remain still enough to complete the process.

_Calm down Parker, calm down._ He repeated, mantra-style, to himself, closing his eyes, _You're not going to die here. You're not going to die. The blue-skins will freak when they hit our defenses, pull-back, and they'll listen to reason._

He continued to repeat it to himself, over and over, almost believing it, until his limbs ceased shaking. Wrapping up the ordeal of getting dressed, he opened his door, took a breath, and hurled himself into the crowded hallway. The noise was even worse here, the steady klaxon of the alarm combining with the incoherent shouting of dozens of people, all trying to force their way through the corridors to get to their posts. With no physical virtues to speak of, it was all he could do to push his way into the living mass and move with the crowd in the direction of the Ops-Center. The tension in the air was thick enough that he could almost touch it as he moved through the underground hallway into their headquarters building.

Ducking out of the packed hallway and onto the staircase leading to the Ops-Center, he enjoyed the cooler air for a few brief moments before moving on. Staggering into the colony's nerve center, he saw that the _Oberst_ was already present, along with Jones, both staring at the main holographic table.

A quick glance at the three-dimensional images told him what he had already guessed. The natives were moving.

"Its started then," he whispered, voice hoarse. His nausea came back full force, and he swiftly pushed his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they had begun to shake again.

"_Ja._" Weigand stated, staring at the image. All four massive heat blips had begun to move, slowly and ponderously, away from their giant tree homes towards the human base camp located almost equidistant between them. "Estimated time until contact Captain?"

Captain Jones manipulated the screen for a moment, "The southern prong will hit us first, looks like a midnight arrival time on the twenty-seventh. The eastern group will arrive an hour or so after that, and both northern groups will hit our defenses just after dawn on the twenty-eighth."

"Communications, get _Kapitaen_ Thomes on the line if you please." the _Oberst_ barked.

"Yes sir," a moments pause, "Channel is open sir."

"_Kaptiaen_, what is the status of your project?"

The fiery captain responded immediately, "The _Cherry Blossom_ is loaded and ready to go, just give the word."

"_Zehr gut_. Have her on stand-by, I will contact you as soon as Adler is in position. Contact Patel and inform him what has developed."

"Yessir."

He reached out and carefully manipulated the image as Weigand got the _Hauptmann_ on the line. A small floating panel refreshed itself as he watched, updating the estimated number of hostiles.

_Eight thousand, five hundred, plus or minus five hundred._ Intellectually, he knew that it could be worse. Instinctively, the small floating numbers scared the hell out of him, he felt his hands shaking worse and it was taking a conscious effort on his part to not vomit.

Weigand continued speaking on the communications channel as he attempted to compose himself, "Adler, get _Brunhilde_ and your squadron online and report back to me once you are en route to your attack coordinates." The _Oberst_ turned to him, "Administrator, make sure you're men are at their postings."

He nodded jerkily, grabbed an earpiece and activated it, "All mining teams, report to your combat positions. The blue-skins are moving. Follow the orders of the local soldiers and get into position." His voice, thankfully, managed to remain steady, even as his body fought to betray him.

Listening absentmindedly to the chaos around him, he continued to gaze at the massive image before him. Shuddering, he reached out and changed the display over to a view of Tartarus. Though not terribly reassuring by itself, the image did much to calm his nerves. Not having to see the masses of savages allowed him to push them, mostly, out of his mind. Carefully taking his right hand out of his pocket, he rested it on the holotable. Though a bit pale, it was no longer shaking.

Men and machines were moving rapidly outside. The Samson squadron's elevated landing pad was being swarmed by men as they loaded bullets, missiles, and fuel into their metal birds. _Brunhilde_ loomed in the background, crewmen and engineers checking and rechecking her external plating even as AMP suits hauled crates of forty-millimeter ammunition into her belly. A stream of men rushed out of the apartment complex and into the exterior trench lines and bunkers.

Another mere button flick changed the view to that of the unobtanium mine. The mining equipment was in the process of being dragged back to the main base, while the remainder of the mining crews were sprinting into the bunker complex.

That had been a point of contention between himself and Weigand. Both had agreed that the mining equipment had to be pulled back into the base. It was, after all, the reason they were there. Parker, however, had wanted to bring his mining teams back as well, arguing that they would be of more use in the main base as a infantry contingent to their AMP suit reserves.. The _Oberst_ wanted them to stay at the mining sites and increase the manpower available at the bunker complexes, arguing that they could return to the base with Kozlov's infantry if it was clear that the complexes were being bypassed. An hour long argument had ended when Weigand had pulled rank and ordered that they stay.

_I still think they'd be more useful here_, he thought bitterly. He was not the military expert present, true, but they were still _his_ people and being overruled rankled.

His internal monologue was disrupted by a dull roar as _Brunhilde_ began to ponderously rise into the air, her Samson escorts rising from their pads in the predawn light. There was not any cheering going on outside, at least, none that he could see. Everyone paused what they were doing and turned to watch the German assault force lift off, many of the soldiers took the time to salute them, but there was no happiness visible.

The contrast hit him sharply, memories of cheering mercenaries flashed through his mind. Would still have cheered if they had realized, truly, that the natives could fight back? Somehow, he thought so. They had all been mercenaries, fighting for pay. For fame, glory, money. A few were along just for the adventure, others because of misplaced loyalty to the company. Only Quaritch had fully seemed to realize the long term threat the natives possessed, but his zealot like attitude had worsened the situation, instead of aiding in them.

_These people know the stakes. They know they could die. That they're friends could _die. He mused to himself. _They're here, because they _want_ to be here. Because to them, they're dying to save humanity, not a paycheck_.

Weigand had taken control of the holotable, and brought up a map showing Tartarus at the top, and the southern blue-skin force at the bottom. Seventeen contacts in dark green had left the base and were slowly winging in that direction. Even at top speed, it would be a long flight, followed by a pitched battle, followed by yet another long flight. He did not envy the crew of those ships at all.

"_Valkyrie Squadron_ en route to assault coordinates. Estimate four hours until we are in position." _Hauptmann_ Alder's voice came across the speakers.

"Good flight _Valkyrie One_," Weigand returned, "The _Cherry Blossom_ will be awaiting your signal to launch from the _Dream_."

"Roger that Control. Will contact when I intend to engage. Over and out."

* * *

**Date**: 07:30, September 25th, 2170

**Location**: Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centauri A System

The _Explorer's Dream _shuddered lightly as the _Cherry Blossom_ detached from its mother. The unmanned shuttle slowly drifted away, tiny jets firing, rotating to bring the heat tiled bottom towards the planet. Had any humans been present on board, they would have been able to hear the hull groaning from the overburden as it began to accelerate from the moon's gravity and the shuttle's own slight engine thrust.

She tore through the atmosphere, banking and slowing only enough to stop from tearing herself apart. She needed speed for her mission. She needed to be as traveling faster than she had ever gone before, faster than she had ever been designed to go. The heat began to dissipate as she leveled off in the upper-atmosphere, still thousands of miles from her target.

Na'vi upon a continent far way from where the future of their world was being decided, stared at the sky in awe as something unfathomable to them hurdled across the sky, her roaring fusion engines leaving a great trail behind her, scattering energy and radiation into the atmosphere.

The hull began to scream as she began her final swan dive, her fusion engine cutting out and locking down to minimize the radiation trail as she roared over Tartarus, her destination near.

To the humans in their flying machines, prepared to defend what they believed to be their species last hope, she appeared to be little more than a white blur streaking overhead.

To the Na'vi of sixteen clans, riding and flying in a singular mass formation towards the insane beasts that dared to harm their goddess, she was a flicker of light, a moment of confusion, and then a roar of sound and fire.

* * *

**Location**: _Valkyrie_ _Squadron_ Rendezvous Point, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The blue-skin formation had been massive. Heat trails tracking a singular wave of them upon the ground even as their eyes could see the horde of banshees slowly keeping pace with their ground-pounding brethren.

The banshee riders had just begun to wing forwards them, seeing the puny human force waiting to challenge their numerous might, when the _Cherry Blossom_ flashed overhead, and then impacted. How many Na'vi died in that single moment, Adler had no idea, but he knew it was more than had died in the entire Battle for the Tree of Souls so many years previously.

Banshees tumbled out of control across the sky as the sonic shock-wave from the Valkyrie's passing roared through them. The thermal scanners flashed into white noise and uselessness as their suicidal ship slammed herself into the heart of the native's formation. The explosion was massive, even from a distance. Though the ground absorbed much of the kinetic energy caused by the impact, more than enough remained to shred the native force.

"_Kampfgruppe, Angriff_." he transmitted. "Avoid the crash site, radiation could be heavy in that area."

A chorus of acknowledgments came across the channel, and _Brunhilde_ began a long bank around the still massive smoke cloud. A single Samson wingpair remained in position around her, the remainder slowing sweeping into wide arcs, launchers flashing as seeking missiles tore into the air after their prey.

The gunship shuddered beneath his feet as her main battery began to speak, the already destroyed jungle vanishing behind explosions as the rounds tore into the survivors. The gun cams painted an image of hell below. The _Cherry Blossom_ had disintegrated on impact, her scrap metal cargo hurling through the air in its molten state had set fire to the entire area.

What few blue-skins had apparently survived the explosion were hopelessly lost and confused, bereft of leadership, and were being slaughtered _en masse_ in both the air and on the ground, from far beyond their primitive weapons' reach. Several tried to group together to swarm the Samsons, and the Samsons dove through the thick atmosphere, using their heavy weight to increase their speed and fall back, just in time for a different wingpair to send missiles hurling into the convenient group of natives.

Only once did they ever try to rush _Brunhilde_, her numerous machine gun bunkers and paired escorts had massacred the few that made it in close.

The dire-horse riders on the ground had no hope, no way to fight back. Any attempt by them to gather was crushed by _Brunhilde's_ massive guns.

In less than an hour of roaring gunfire and spiraling missiles, it was over.

* * *

**Date**: 0845, September 25th, 2170

**Location**: Ops-Center, Tartarus, Alpha Centauri A System

"_Valkyrie One_ reporting," Adler's voice came across the base's comm system, "Report near-total destruction of the southern prong. All native survivors routed from area. Returning home. Heavy equipment expenditure, but no losses."

A brief cheer was heard across the base at the last. Everyone was sick of losing friends, and it was good to strike a hearty blow against their enemy.

"Confirmed _Valkyrie One_, return home. Control out." Weigand nodded, and settled back into a nearby chair.

Parker sighed heavily, heart beating a bit faster now. _They did it. It actually worked. That's a quarter of the native's dead, who knows how many of their tribes ruined for generations. But there's still more coming.. and they don't have radios, they won't know what happened to the others. _

He frowned a bit at that, "Weigand, should we have Patel tell the natives what happened to their war-buddies? I mean, wouldn't that help showing them that we're not to be messed with, at least?"

The old German glanced over at him and closed his eyes, for all appearances, relaxing. "I have been thinking on that very subject." the other replied quietly, after a moment, "And have yet to decide. On one hand, it does prove our strength, that it will cost them beyond what they can believe to drive us away. On the other, it could also alienate Patel or possibly enrage the natives."

He continued frowning, thinking. "So... how about we tell them, but not now. We tell Patel to contact us if negotiations are failing, and we tell him then? We only do it if we have to."

Weigand remained still in his relaxed pose for well over a minute before slowly nodding, "That is an agreeable compromise Administrator. Send it to Thomes, I have her in charge of liaising with Patel at the moment. For now, I wish to relax, for soon I fear there will be even less time for us to simply sit still for even short moments like these."

Several quick flicks brought his communications panel up, and he had a memo uploaded and transmitted to the _Dream_ within a minute.

He let out an explosive sigh and made his way to his office, closing the door, locking it, and collapsing into his chair.

_Less than five hours after I woke up, and I'm already exhausted, all from worrying over something happening hundreds of kilometers away. _He sighed again, opened one of his desk drawers, and removed the bottle of vodka he'd been given by his mining football team after they had won their championship game.

To be honest, he preferred gin or whiskey to vodka, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He poured himself a glass and sipped it slowly, allowing the Russian alcohol to burn down his throat.

_In a little less than forty-eight hours, this will be a battlefield_. He marveled to himself as he poured more vodka, _We'll be fighting for our lives against a race of stupid tree-hugging hippies who don't understand why we're here, or care that our species could very well die if we don't get it._

He stared out his office window at Weigand, still slumped over in his chair.

_We still have tonight though._ _Perhaps..perhaps one last football game tonight, we can drag down Thomes and her team for one last grudge match, a last night of frivolity before we all get killed. Would be good for everyone's morale, remind them that what they're here for._

Slightly hysterical laughter erupted from his throat as he stood up and headed back into the Ops-Center. Something told him the _Oberst_ would approve of the idea. He was always a big softie when it came to cheering his men and women up.

It would be good for him as well. He still owed Thomes another defeat.

* * *

A few luckless sentries remained in position around the main base and within the bunker complexes. Everyone else was crowded into the 'Rust Bowl'. Weigand had worked it out so that several volunteers would head out and take the sentries places as the game wore on.

Everyone wanted to be there, for their last chance at being carefree and human before the coming maelstrom.

Though he had grown interested in the sport after the first several games, this was the first time he found himself truly engaged in the match. Rising and shouting his mining crewmen onwards when they had the ball and were pushing into their opponent's half, heckling Thomes' people when they had the ball.

It was an odd way to party before a battle. There was no alcohol, no wild partying. There was just... the game. No betting on the outcome even, just cheering and laughing. Nothing else mattered but the men and women running across the dirt field, kicking a small back and white ball to and fro.

Adler and his squadron had been given the place of honor near the center field, all of them either standing on or leaning against the gutted Dragon gunship. They were the only ones who would not have to take their turns at the sentry posts, they had done enough for today, and tomorrow night they would be launching for what, for many of them, would be their last fight.

He threw his hands up when one of his women managed to bend the ball around the keeper's hands and into the net, laughing with glee at the look on Thomes' face.

_But for now.. nothing else matters._ _Nothing but small field, the pride of the players, and the roar of the crowd._

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 29: A God's Wrath**

Yea, so... this chapter was actually done Friday morning, but I kinda... ended up reading TvTropes all day and forgot to post it before I got to work. Sorry about that guys and girls.

In any case, here is the beginning of Act IV and the start of the battle. Hope you all enjoy it. Expect this to be the standard chapter length for this Act, I really do enjoy going into detail in the combat situations.

**Please, please, please, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	33. Chapter 29: A God's Wrath

I. Do. Not. Own. Avatar.

* * *

**Chapter 29: A God's Wrath**

**Date**: 07:00, May 25th, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Even though he was still on the radio with Maria Thomes, the other two men were already scrambling frantically, packing what gear they would need into their elderly Samson. Katrina was already running through the preflight checklist, muttering to herself as she frantically double-checked the systems.

"All four native groups have begun moving," the United Nations Captain was telling him, "They'll hit us in a staggered order, starting around midnight on the twenty-seventh, until just after dawn on the same day. Looks like your friend Sully's group will be the last to arrive." She paused, "Hope you've got something good planned Patel, the numbers involved are not comforting us."

"We're going to head out right now." He assured her, "We should get there around noon, since we have to detour around the attack force. With luck, we can convince their _Tsahik_ and be at the Tree of Souls by nightfall."

"With luck." Came the dry reply, "Somehow I doubt it will be that easy."

Privately, he did too, but saying that out loud would not help anything. "We'll work it out."

"Weigand is putting our battle plans in motion now, if the negotiations stall, call us on this frequency, maybe we'll have done enough to convince them how bloody this is going to be."

_I don't like the sound of that. _He winced, "What kind of plans?"

"You don't need to know that at the moment." was the immediate, and expected, retort, "We'll tell you if you really need the information, but you're a smart man professor, I'm sure you'll be able to figure some of it out."

_Yeah. That doesn't sound good._ With a sigh, he nodded to himself. Pressing the issue would not get them anywhere "Very well. We'll contact you if they stall or once we convince the _Tsahik_ to head to the Tree."

She did not even bother to acknowledge that, simply cutting the connection instead.

Grabbing his exopack from the wall next to him, he moved to his feet, shut down the computer system, and headed outside. John and Norm were already in the back, the Avatar manning the Hydra mount. Katrina was already spinning up the turbines, the low roar building as he sprinted over and clambered into the rear.

His friend did not even wait a moment after he was in to lift off, and he had to swiftly grab onto the handholds to avoid falling out of the machine.

"Plan to avoid them to the north then Katrina?" Norm called out as he helped Max settle in.

Her voice carried back, "That's the idea. Head an hour or so that way before we head west to the home tree. Should avoid the main warband that way." After a few moments, they all began to get settled in for the flight, carefully watching the skies around them for any sight of the Na'vi or any native fauna that might decide to take interest in them.

It was not until a half hour into the flight that he saw something on the ground below.

"Hey! Katrina! Slow down a minute, take us over that clearing to the left!" he called out.

The Samson obligingly slowed and banked left, Norm and John both carefully leaned over to look at what had caught his eye.

_Nantang._ A lot of them. Several full packs at least, all racing south. A _palulkan_, dwarfing its smaller cousins, bolted through the clearing, ignoring the animals it would normally have preyed upon.

"Hey guys. It's worse." Katrina's voice came across, quiet and tense, "Look south."

Raising his eyes from the ground, he instantly noticed what she was talking about. On the very edge of his sight, what looked like a living cloud was swirling southwards. Scrambling to open his pack, he raised his binoculars to his face and stared at it. It was not the warband. None of the _ikran_ had riders, and he could make out several _Toruk_ in the massive swarm.

"_Eywa_ goes to war." he said quietly.

"That's got to be every _ikran _and _toruk_ from the mountains." Norm said, voice barely audible, "Plus all of the animals on the ground.."

"It's going to be a nightmare at Tartarus." John voiced their thoughts out loud. "The sheer numbers involved... I mean, my god, they're just going to overwhelm them. All the defenses in the world won't help against that swarm. The casualties..."

He shook his head, "Are going to be insane. For both sides. They'll overwhelm them all right, but they'll be climbing over the bodies of the fallen to do it. _Eywa_ is going to destroy her own balance with this, with how many of her animals are going to be killed. And god knows how many Na'vi clans are going to be destroyed by this."

"That's our best argument for Mo'at." John pointed out, "She's never been a fan of killing, of any kind really. I mean, she's not going to be thrilled with a 'save the humans' campaign, not after losing her home and her mate to them, but if she realizes just how many are going to die here, and that the humans _do_ want to fix the damage they did."

Max nodded, he opened his mouth to tell Katrina to get them moving again, when he heard her let out a startled exclamation.

"Katrina! What is it!" he called out instead.

Any reply was drowned out the by the suddenly massive _crack_ of a massive sonic boom.

She shouted once their ears stopped ringing, "A Valkyrie just went overhead, flying _way_ too damn fast!"

He had a cold feeling in his gut, "How fast?"

"Too fast to be intending to land anywhere within several hundred clicks of here." she reported.

"Think they're using it as a bomber? A high-altitude one the Na'vi can't reach?"

"No way Max, that thing was hauling ass!"

Frowning, he ran it through his head. _It's going too fast to land at Tartarus, so it's not carrying any reinforcements. It's also going too fast to be used as a bomber._ He tried to run through the logic chain, figure out what the hell was going on. _Something going that fast, at that altitude..._ he suddenly felt a k chill run through him. _Oh. Oh god no._

Mathematics ran through his mind without him consciously thinking about it. _A Valkyrie, fully loaded, traveling at orbital breaking speeds would have enough force to.. to be an extremely powerful weapon._

"They're going to crash it." he whispered out loud. "Katrina, what direction was it heading?" he shouted.

"South-west, towards Tartarus. Why?"

He wracked his memory. What directions had the Na'vi been planning to assault from? The North, East, and South. The Southern group, the most isolated of the four. That was their plan, to try and eliminate as many of the Na'vi as they could _before_ they could reach Tartarus.

"Son of a bitch. Get us to the _Omaticaya!_"

"Max, what's going on?" Norm shouted even as the turbines began to roar, bringing them back onto their northerly course.

"They're going to crash it Norm. Use it's mass and speed to make it into a weapon, slam it right into one of the Na'vi groups to try and kill as many as they can before the battle starts." he explained,

Norm paled, and John looked like he was about to be sick.

"That's.. insane! The damage that's going to cause when it hits! And those things have fusion reactors, what about the radiation released when it hits!" he Avatar protested.

Katrina's voice carried back once more, "I think environmental damage is a bit low on their priority list at the moment John. Considering that they're willing to sacrifice one of two or three Valkyries, I think survival is their only goal at the moment, and they're willing to pay any cost."

"It's still insane." Norm chimed in, "Even with Pandora's higher radiation exposure, it's still going to do severe damage to the area. Kind of goes against their promises to reclaim the lands, doesn't it?"

"I'm guessing that's why they didn't tell us." Max confirmed, "But she has a point, at this point, they're doing anything and everything to try and survive. We can worry about getting them to reclaim the land once we stop this insanity."

They all fell quiet as the Samson roared northwards, heading to a meeting with the only person who might be able to convince a living goddess to end the spiral of death.

* * *

**Date**: 12:30, May 25th, 2170

**Location**: _Omaticaya_ _kelutral_, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Even as they banked in for a landing, the area around the home tree was swarming with the clan members. Na'vi were rushing to and fro, elderly warriors and youngsters too young to have become _ikran'makto_ were seizing weapons and pushing those who were unable to fight inside.

A few arrows whistled at them, missing wide, but still causing John to lean as far out as he could and shout what sounded like reprimands mixed with insults at the two youngsters who had opened fire. Max belatedly realized that one of the ones who had shot was Jake's son, Tsu'tey. He had the same facial features of his father, if upon a more natural build.

One of the older warriors grabbed the young man's bow before he could shoot again, snapping something at him.

Katrina kept them hovering over the jungle until she was sure no one was going to resume shooting arrows at them, before slowly gliding their metal bird into the clearing at the base of the tree, before bringing them down for a landing.

He jumped out as soon as the skids hit the ground, Norm and John piling out of the other side. The elderly warrior who seemed to be in charge made his way over.

He and John exchanged civil greetings, before he began, "The _olo'eyktan_ says he was mistaken to exile you. You are still not _omaticaya_, and you may not call our _kelutral_ yours, but you may visit." he turned his wrinkled face to Max, "I see you, friend Patel. But why do you bring that machine here once more?"

Inwardly, he felt a sharp relief that they were dealing with one of the older warriors. The elder Na'vi seemed to react to things far more calmly than the younger generations did. He idly wondered if it was genetic, or merely experience. "I see you, warrior. We are here to speak to your _Tsahik_, to Mo'at. We are still striving to cease this war, before it consumes all, and I believe she may be the only one who can aid us."

"Lies!" A young voice barked, the crowd parted, revealing Tsu'tey and a young female shoving their way forwards.

_He has inherited much of his namesakes temper, combined with Jake's impulsiveness._ He thought, rather uncharitably. He hadn't met the original Tsu'tey, but Jake had told him much about the former _olo'eyktan, _much of it good, quite as much of it bad.

"You bring machine here!" he snapped at them, his poor English a sharp contrast to the almost cultured tones of the elder, "All _tawtute_ lie, harm _Eywa_, only way stop them is make them leave!"

Max snapped. Enough was enough. He had accepted a lot in the last several years: fifteen years of living hand to mouth in a deadly jungle, the pain of watching his close friends die, watching other friends drift away to fully become Na'vi, suffered in silence as history began to repeat himself despite his best efforts. But God Dammit, he was _not _going to be talked down to by a fourteen year old with too much ego who had no idea what was truly happening.

"Because you've back the humans into a corner, and they're going to do _anything_ and _everything_ they can to survive." he snapped, half shouting. "They've probably already killed _everyone_ who was going to attack them from the south, and the only way your parents are going to drive them out is by climbing over the _bodies_ of everyone who died before them!"

Everyone had gone silent and simply stared at the normally unflappable scientist.

He continued his rant, "Don't you get it? The humans _can't_ retreat this time, there is _nowhere_ for them to go. It's not going to be like last time, where you and Eywa can drive them off in a single fight. It's going to be a multi-day bloodbath on the scale you can't imagine, and the only way to prevent it is for Eywa to realize that!"

Norm and John had backed away a step from him, and the Na'vi, most of whom he belatedly realized, probably couldn't speak English, were staring at him like he'd gone totally insane.

He felt his cheeks begin to burn as the silence and staring continued.

"I will.. ask the _Tsahik_ to speak with you." the elder stated finally. Turning, and telling everyone else to get back into the _kelutral_, the tribe members made their way inside. The younger ones tossing alternate glares and scared looks at the insane _tawtute_.

Once everyone had headed inside, he let out an explosive breath, tried to ignore the continued stares of his friends, and moved over to settle down against the side of the great tree.

The quiet sniggering made him glance up. Katrina, leaning against the Samson a dozen feet away, was apparently trying not to laugh her head off.

At his glare, she lost all control and started positively howling. That, in turn, set off Norm and John, who both started cackling.

"Been.. been keeping that inside a bit too long Max," she managed breathlessly, still laughing.

He couldn't help it, he felt himself grinning, "Better than trying to bash through a wall."

She nodded, but kept laughing.

They, fortunately, managed to calm themselves down by the time Mo'at emerged from the tree, several of the elder warriors with her.

Exchanging polite greetings, she got straight to the heart of the matter, "You wish me to speak with Eywa, to convince her to cease this fight?"

"Yes." He nodded, "The humans truly do intend to fix the damage they did Mo'at, they have changed. But if pushed.. if pushed into a corner, like they are now, they'll fight with everything they have."

The elderly, even for a Na'vi, woman slowly sat before them, bringing her down to his height. "You ask me to go against the will of Eywa, against the will of the clans, to do this."

"Honored _Tsahik_," Norm spoke, "I'm afraid we don't have a choice. The humans who are here now are but the first of many. They don't want to fight, they just want to mine and go home. Their war leader is different than the cruel one from before, he was honoring his promise to us to begin reclaiming the land when the fighting began."

Mo'at frowned, "The land still lays dead, and the machines and stone of their former home still scars Eywa's beauty."

"It isn't a swift thing. It is far easier to destroy than to heal," Max said quietly, "But they were starting. We talked with many of them as they worked, trying to find the best way to go about healing the damage."

"For more immediate concerns though," the lone female huamn joined the conversation, sitting on the ground not far from her Samson, "This battle that is coming.. it's going to destroy everything it touches."

A wince from the _Tsahik_, " . Both are terrible, and much will be destroyed. But am I to question Eywa's will?"

_She's uncertain. Keep pressing it,_ "Eywa is letting her fear and anger over what happened before consume her Mo'at. This fight won't be like last time. The humans sent away their ships in the stars, they can't retreat to the skies this time. Can't be sent away. They're going to fight to the death, every last one of them, and many brave warriors will die to do it. Entire clans worth of warriors will die in the next few days, unless you help us stop this."

Norm spoke, very quietly, "You remember the shuttle they used as a bomber last time, right?" He waited for her to nod, "We think they crashed one into one of the groups moving to attack them. Considering how big it is, and how fast it was going... the deaths have already started, the first of thousands."

The _tsahik_ sat in silence for a long while. "Thousands." she whispered eventually, "You claim that Eywa herself may be suffering from the madness of the _tawtute_, ask me to travel to the _Vitraya Ramunong_ to convince her of this, and believe that she might listen?"

He spread his hands, "We can only try, Mo'at. If she does not listen.. than she doesn't listen. But we have to try to stop this insanity before it can get any worse."

Yet another long silence. "The _Vitraya Ramunong _is no short distance from here, and I have no _ikran_, nor do any of the elders or youngster here."

"We, ah." he coughed awkwardly, "Have a way around that." he glanced at Katrina, and at the Samson behind her.

Mo'at noticed their glance, and hissed softly as she stared at the machine behind them.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 30: Demon's Roar**

And here have Max and company doing everything they can to stop the war, and it looks like it's not going too badly for them. Hope everyone is still enjoying. This chapter actually took a bit. Wrote part of it last night.. hated it, scrapped it, and started over this afternoon. Think it turned out well, so please let me know what you think, as always. Love reviews, so please keep them coming.

**Please Review! I also Command you to Review!**

Double incentive.


	34. Chapter 30: Demon's Roar

Own Avatar, I do not, think I did? Fool, you are.

* * *

**Chapter 30: Demon's Roar**

**Date**: 1445, 25th, 2170

**Location**: _Omaticaya_ _kelutral_, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The elderly _Tsahik_ was clutching the sides of the Samson as it slowly began to raise up off the ground.

It, thankfully, had not taken very long to convince her, she knew as well as they that it was the only way to get to the Tree of Souls before the battle, but that certainly did not mean that she enjoyed the idea of being surrounded by metal, cut-off from Eywa's embrace. Convincing the rest of the clan, though, had been much harder. It had taken a lot of talking on Mo'at's part to sway them away from the idea of war with the _tawtute_, and Max was pretty sure that the younger ones were still unconvinced. The elders had been convinced though, most of them had fought as the previous battle or seen its aftermath, and the idea of so much death had never sat very well with them, only loyalty to Eywa had made them agree to the idea of an attack.

Convincing them to let Mo'at ride in the Samson had taken an equally long period of time. No one had wanted her to do it, and they had ended up wasting a valuable hour arguing with the clan about it. Eventually, Katrina, sick of the debate, started up the Samsons rotors and announced that they were leaving, with or without the tribe's blessing on the matter. Mo'at, though unhappy at the resolution, had told her people to be quiet and remain within the hometree until she returned, and then forced herself to carefully clamber into the machine amongst shouts of protest.

Now, as they began to accelerate and move over the jungle, it looked like she was having second thoughts.

"Mo'at," he called across to her, "You don't need to cling that hard."

"_Tawtute_ are insane." she hissed back at him, not releasing her grip, "How can one fly in something that does not live? This is unnatural."

"Not alive?" Katrina's indignant voice came over the comm system, "I'll have you know that she very much has a personality, and it's the personality of a cantankerous, elderly bitch!"

The _tsahik_ glared at the front of the Samson for a moment before turning and staring at the jungle flicking by below.

"Better get comfortable," Norm advised from his seat next to Max, "It's going to be a while before we get there."

The majority of the flight passed in silence, Mo'at visibly trying to relax and failing miserably at it, he and Norm were trying not to smile too much as they watched, and John kept his eyes glued to the sky around them, a small grin on his face.

They were an hour into the flight, about a third of the way there, when Mo'at spoke again, "Why do _tawtute_ refer to their machines as they would to people?"

They blinked at her, and she continued, "She called this machine a 'she', why?"

He blinked a bit more before answering, "Same reason some Na'vi name their bows. You use a tool long enough, that tool becomes important to you, important enough that you genuinely care about it, even if it isn't 'alive' in the traditional sense."

The Na'vi woman stared at him with her penetrating gaze for a long moment before nodding slowly.

Norm spoke quietly, "You really don't know that much about humans, do you?"

It was Mo'at's turn to blink and stare at Norm, "What do you mean?"

John spoke, still watching the sky, "You, the _Omaticaya_, the Na'vi in general, you know almost nothing about the _tawtute_. They know almost everything there is to know about the people, are trying to learn all they can about Eywa and how the balance functions. But you know next to nothing about _tawtute_ culture, how they live, how their technology works, what drives them, what the Earth is like."

He winced softly at his friend's tone, being reminded that John was not a human anymore, and he could never be, and that, no matter how much he buried the pain, it still hurt him.

Mo'at, in turn, was staring at John's back, frowning lightly, as he continued, "Most humans aren't that dissimilar to the Na'vi, at least, in basic personality. Both sides have people who are smart, who are clever, who are idiots, who are funny. But humans lack something you take for granted." he turned and looked at her, "We don't have a mother, we don't have an Eywa to watch over us and guide us. We're alone, all of us. You go to Eywa when you die, join your voice with hers. Humans? Thousands of theories, ideas, but they just don't _know_ what happens when they die, and it scares the hell out of them."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Jake'sully said that you killed your mother, long ago, when we talked on a similar idea." Mo'at responded, finally.

"That's.. true. Sort of." Max said, turning his eyes to the jungle below. "If you mean the green, the life, of our world, yes. We've destroyed most of that. But we never had a mother goddess in the sense of Eywa. Humans have always been alone in our own minds, in our spirits. It's why we're generally so social, always talking with each other, because we want to be reassured that we're not alone." he winced, "It's also why our weapons are so powerful. Generally, most humans _loathe_ fighting, so we try to make our weapons so terrible that no one will want to fight. It... it only works sometimes."

Another long silence passed between them.

"To live without _Tsaheylu_, to be unable to hear Eywa.. to connect to your mates.." she murmured softly, "That is the cause of your insanity, is it not? To live like that.. is a fate far worse than death to the people. Tsu'tey.. was mad with grief and pain from the mere hours he was forced to endure like that before his spirit was set free. Yet you _tawtute_, live every day of your lives like that."

She turned and looked at Max, and he noticed her grip was no longer white-knuckled, though she still held onto the handholds. "You say that they are here to heal their home? How does mining the gray-rocks help?"

Max sighed, "It's a very long story, and much of it revolves around technology."

A small smile graced her wrinkled visage, "As Jake'sully would say, 'We have time'."

* * *

**Date**: 16:30, 25th, 2170

**Location**: Tree of Souls, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The Samson slowly touched down just outside of the main basin around the tree. They had spent the remainder of the trip just talking, mostly about what the Earth was like, both now and before. Mo'at had not quite grasped exactly how the unobtanium was being used, but she had accepted their explanations, and then proceeded to ask question after question about what manner of living creatures their home had.

The idea of the majority of the creatures being so much smaller than Pandoran life had thrown her off a bit, and the idea that there was nothing the size of an _ikran_ that was capable of flight had surprised her.

It had been.. an interesting flight. He knew that she'd largely been asking to remain polite, at least at first, to attempt to show that they were still friends to the _Omaticaya_. The questions on the trees and animals of the Earth had actually managed to engage her interest though.

His small smile broke off slowly as he gazed at the _Vitraya Ramunong, _its long branches swaying slowly in the wind. Convincing Mo'at had been the easy part. Convincing Eywa herself.. was liable to prove more difficult, especially as Mo'at would be the only capable of speaking to the goddess. And even then, he was not quite sure how literal the idea of 'speaking' was. From what she had told him, it was more akin to images and feelings than actual words.

The _Tsahik_ carefully moved out of the Samson, and sighed in happiness as her feet touched the ground once more. John and Norm clambered out behind her, both staring at the lightly glowing tree.

"Do you think you can convince her?" he moved up next to Mo'at as he asked the question.

Her small smile of contentment at being out of the Samson faded. "I do not know, Max'patel. The great mother has already chosen the path of her will and of her children. It will be difficult to convince her to swerve from that course."

Max blew out his breath, his exopack fogging slightly. "All right, let's get started then."

They slowly made their way down towards the tree, Katrina jogging to join up after shutting down the Samson.

"Remain here," Mo'at spoke quietly, just before the base of the tree.

They all nodded, remaining standing as Mo'at knelt before the tree and began to murmur quietly in prayer, bringing her queue up to the dangling branch before her. Her body visibly shook slightly as she connected directly to Eywa, but she did not break her slow chant.

Standing quietly, waiting, they watched her.

After nearly an hour, they sat down, slowly looking around the basin.

At the two hour mark, Katrina and Norm headed back up to the Samson to grab their packs so they could eat.

It was not until nearly three hours later, in the dead of night, that Mo'at, voice hoarse, slowly detached from the tree, staggered down towards them, and sat heavily. John was by her side in a moment, pressing a water skin into her hands.

After slowly drinking, the _tsahik _handed the water back, staring blankly into the distance.

"_Tsahik_," he murmured quietly, "Did it work? Did you convince her?

A single tear sliding down her face was the only answer he needed.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 31: Might of God**

A bit shorter than intended, mostly because I wrote most of Chapter 31 before realizing that for everything to remain in chronological order, and to make sense, this had to happen before the next chapter does...but the next part of Max' PoV had to wait until 32. Basically my outline was completely off and I had to change it a lot in the last few days. So here ya go, another round of Patel and company.

Glad to hear that everyone is still enjoying my work, and that more people are reading it. Should have the next chapter up tonight after I get home from work.

**Keep reviewing please! **


	35. Chapter 31: Sigrun's Spear

Yeah. I don't own Avatar, just the random OC's.

* * *

**Chapter 31: Sigrun's Spear**

**Date**: 1900, May 26th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The low, slow, and familiar rumble had begun again.

Parker sighed and stared out the windows of the Ops-Center as their small air force spun up its turbines and prepared, once more, to go to war.

He had done the math in his head, just like every other human currently trapped on the world. One modified Valkyrie, along with sixteen Samsons, going up against an estimated two-thousand blue-skins, about half of which would be banshee riders and able to fight back. Each Samson carried a meager eight missiles, _Brunhilde_ carried none. Machine guns worked well at killing things on the ground, but in the air… hitting a wildly maneuvering target at anything but point-blank range from a bucking, swerving helicopter was anything but easy, and at those ranges, the enemy would be shooting back. The gunners on _Brunhilde_ would have an easier time there, both protected by their scrap metal armor as well as the inherent stability of the much more massive vehicle.

Given all that, Weigand had re-drawn up the plans with his _Hauptmann_. The Germans would be launching two attacks on the approaching eastern force. The first of them, tonight's, was to be a softening up sortie, which would be followed up by the main attack the following night.

"The idea," he'd heard Weigand stress to Adler, "Is to maximize enemy confusion. Fire your missiles at the longest possible range, conduct some bombardment fire from _Brunhilde_, and leave. Take your time doing it as well, make them worry and panic. Actual body count is less important than destroying their will to fight us."

The pilots and crews had pulled out every stop they could think of to try and stay alive. The normally olive-drab helicopters were now a chaotic mixture of dark blues and purples to attempt to camouflage them. This, naturally, caused the white, black, and rust colored _Brunhilde_ to clash even more with her escorts.

Turning from the window, he headed over to the main holotable, nodding to Thomes, who, on what was possibly her last trip to the base, had already brought up the thermal scans transmitted from orbit.

"I don't envy them much." Thomes said after they both gravely regarded the image for a moment, "Long night flight, followed by heavy action tomorrow. It's going to wear on them."

He gave her a slight nod, "Think we have a chance?"

She was silent for a long while. "Maybe. Against the eastern force, sure. Hit them tonight, and again just before they reach us from beyond their range? They'll be in no shape to fight when they do show up, your miners and Kozlov should be able to repulse them easily. The bigger problem..." she scrolled the screen north, showing the two prongs heading steadily south, and the third that had only recently shown up.

"Is Sully and his merry band." he finished for her, "And their furry friends."

A shake of her head, "Hard to tell how many animals are moving, except that giant flock of banshees. Best guess is that we can up the numbers against us by at least fifty percent. The animals will probably be too stupid to do anything but try and swarm us, but they're still targets we can't afford to let through."

The roar outside built up to a deeper rumble as _Brunhilde_ slowly passed over the Ops Center. A glance to the windows showed a Samson gliding past against the darkening sky, the camouflage actually doing a decent job of causing it to blend in with the dark tree line. He shifted slightly in place, uncomfortable memories playing bad clips in his mind's eye.

Weigand moved away from his place near the windows as the last Samson drifted out of sight, red and green lights flicking on as it cleared the base.

"And so we continue." the _Oberst_ nodded to the pair of them before zooming out the holo-image, appraising the squadron as it began its journey east. "I do not believe I will get much sleep in these coming days."

"Don't think any of us are." he murmured, eyes also following the pitifully small force slowly moving away from Tartarus.

"We'll have to," Thomes bluntly interjected, "Sleepy soldiers won't do anyone much good, and tired commanders will get everyone killed."

He shook his head slightly, "Going to have to start issuing sleep meds. Especially to my mining crews, most of them are shaky enough as it is, having gone through this before." _Me especially._

Weigand glanced at, and then nodded to him. "I will draft the orders.'

The three fell into a companionable, yet tense silence in the quiet Ops Center, their eyes following the small lights on the table before them.

* * *

**Date**: 2342, May 26th, 2170

**Location**: Due East of Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

_Brunhilde_ drifted lazily amongst the clouds, every human's gaze on board glued to their thermal scanners, observing the horde that was slowly moving forwards.

Adler carefully watched the blue-skins as they approached. Weigand had given him free reign to plan the attack however he chose, and he'd come up with, what he thought, was a solid plan. His Samsons were lurking several kilometers back, nearly over the horizon, hovering in a linear formation with their running lights off. _Brunhilde's _limited computers were working overtime to transmit targeting information to the far-off squadron.

The idea was to bombard the area with missiles, focusing on the banshees, follow it up with heavy gunfire on the ground forces from long range with his gunship, using the cloud cover to mask their location, and then get the hell out of there once they had expended the majority of their ammunition.

He let out an explosive sigh as the native group slowly entered the Samson's maximum firing range, and nodded, activating the channel to his squadron.

"_Feuer frei._"

Confirmations flooded the channel, the radar picking up the missiles from their launching point nearly forty kilometers away. The computer updated with new targeting locations after each missile launched, until moments later all one-hundred and twenty-eight were airborne.

It did not take long for the stream of human weaponry to cross the massive distance, the missiles exhaust glowing brightly as they raced through the air.

_Say what you want about the blue-skins,_ he grumbled mentally as he watched, _They have good eyesight._

The numerous red-orange lights had not escaped the notice of the savages, and their formation apparently included veterans from the great battle, for the mass began to spiral and dissolve as they tried to get out of the way of the incoming weapons. What they didn't realize, however, was that this time there was no Flux Vortex to disrupt the tracking systems on the missiles, and _Brunhilde_ relentlessly guided the munitions towards the aerial concentrations.

The veteran fliers had largely escaped the human's fiery wrath by diving into the trees as fast as possible, but the majority of the fliers did not react nearly as quickly, or as intelligently.

As the explosions began, the gunners took that as their queue and _Brunhilde _began to speak, the deck rumbling as forty-millimeter shells were lobbed into the general mass of the blue-skin ground forces.

"Track the primary group." he transmitted to the gun battery, and watched as they slowly 'walked' the gunfire across the largest clump of visible natives.

Their enemy might not have been able to tell where the missile fire had come from, but they could quite easily see the flashes of the guns, and while the missiles had hurt their formation, there were still hundreds of banshees airborne. First one pack, then another, began to ascend as rapidly as they could, with the fliers who had fled to the cover of the trees bringing up the rear.

Adler winced. The clouds hadn't been as thick as he'd hoped then, if they could see the flashes of light.

_The question is, do we retreat now?_

He _had_ to keep _Brunhilde_ intact, but he also _had_ to thin the native forces before they could reach Tartarus.

"Continue the attack," he informed the pilots, before transmitting to his Samsons, "_Valkyrie Kampfgruppe_, _Rückzug_."

The Samson squadron began to fall back to the base from their firing position, while _Brunhilde_ continued her long, slow bank, guns blazing, gunners waiting for the natives to swarm up through the light cloud cover.

They weren't disappointed; a horde of blue-skins on their banshees boiled up through the clouds to be met by machine gun fire from her numerous defensive bunkers.

Deep thuds began to resonate through the gunship as arrows began to rebound off her hull, Adler ignored it. Arrows weren't a threat to his Chooser of the Slain, what worried him more was whether or not these natives had picked up the fire-bombs from Sully. After two minutes went by, with only arrows bouncing off of the armor and glass, he guessed that they didn't, or if they did, they were on the ground, and thus of no danger.

He settled into this seat and continued to direct the heavy weapons fire as the "battle" continued. The blue-skins didn't seem to know how to handle the armored ship. Several tried to land on her hull to fire their arrows straight into the gun-slits, only to be murdered for trying. Perhaps five minutes into the battle though, one came up with an idea. Diving in below _Brunhilde_'s bulk, the native had its banshee latch onto the rear bunker and began tearing at it with its teeth.

Swearing burst across the comms as the soldiers manning the defensive guns tried to find a way to kill the beast before it managed to tear the ramshackle armor plating apart. They couldn't get their machine guns in the proper position, and it wasn't until one of the men physically stuck his arm out of the firing slit and opened fire with his pistol that they killed the inventive savage.

"_Scheisse_." he swore as he listened to the reports from the small fight. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder, "_Rückzug_. _Fliegen nach Tartarus_."

The heavy guns fell silent as the pilot accelerated and banked, the native savages falling slowly behind as he accelerated _Brunhilde_ out of the area.

He brought up the channel to the _Oberst_ and began to transmit.

* * *

**Date**: 02:00, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Everyone looked exhausted, Weigand included. That didn't stop him from continuing the briefing, or from them giving him their full attention.

"Enemy casualties are estimated as moderate to heavy. Over a hundred slain at least, but an exact count is impossible given the nature of the strike, and the altitude at which _Brunhilde_ was forced to withdraw." the _Oberst_ was re-iterating what Adler had told him several hours before.

Parker leaned forwards, "How much ammunition did they use? And what drove them off?"

"Expenditures were one hundred percent of the missiles embarked about our Samsons, and _Brunhilde_ expended roughly a third of her ammunition. _Hauptmann_ Adler reports his decision to withdraw came after a native attempted to use his banshee to tear into one of the bunkers. They were able to kill it, but he feared the natives would seize upon the idea, given their weapons ineffectiveness."

He blinked, "Shouldn't he have stayed longer, at least? I mean, that seems like a flimsy reason to fall back if it didn't even manage to break into the ship."

"Normally, yes, it would have been" Weigand nodded in agreement, "However, part of his orders were to keep _Brunhilde_ intact at all costs, she is our most effective mobile weapon system, and must be preserved. Were we to lose her, I fear we would also lose any chance of success in the battle ahead."

He exhaled heavily and nodded.

The _Oberst_ looked at him for a long moment, "Get some sleep, everyone. We're going to need everyone rested for the combat tomorrow night."

Everyone slowly rose and shuffled out of the room. Thomes and her staff solemnly bid them goodbye before heading towards the airlock that would take them outside to their waiting Valkryie.

He bid them goodbye without really thinking about it, and it was only when he reached the tunnel connecting the Ops Center to the apartment complex that the significance of the occasion struck him.

_That could be the last time we see each other._ His sleepy shuffled slowly wound down to a stop. _I could be dead tomorrow, all of us could be, and the only ones who will know it are Thomes and her crew up on the Dream._

Gulping slowly against the rising tide of cold dread, he slowly began to make his way to his quarters. _The plan is sound, Patel will succeed, and we'll survive._ _The plan is sound, Patel will succeed, and we'll survive._ _The plan is..._

He kept repeating the short sentence to himself as he forced his legs to resume working, to take him to his quarters.

He didn't realize he'd begun to repeat it, over and over, out loud to himself until he reached his quarters.

_Thank god no one is awake to have heard that Parker,_ he tried to make light of it, _They'll all think you've finally lost it._

Laughing weakly, he crawled into his too small bed and turned off the lights, unconsciously resuming his mantra-style chant as he did so.

Sleep, thankfully, overcame him almost immediately into his numbing embrace.

* * *

**Date**: 11:30, May 27, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus Ops Center, Alpha Centauri A System

It always struck him in the oddest ways how different Weigand was from Quaritch. How different the professional soldiers were from the Sec-Ops mercenaries.

He knew that he shouldn't really be surprised by it anymore, not after all these months and years. But it still found ways to creep up on him.

In this case, it was the _Oberst_'s lack of a pre-battle meeting of any form. There was no mass gathering of the troops to rally them, no conference of the administration staff to go over any last minute details.

Weigand was simply...being seen, he supposed, would be the best way to say it. The old German was personally striding about the base, around the positions, making sure that every soldier had everything they needed, that every bunker was stocked, that every pilot was ready.

Occasionally Jones or Adler would move over to him and hold a quick conference over some detail, they would resolve it, and he would resume his walk about.

The soldiers and miners seemed to be reacting well to his presence, particularly when he saw their AMP suit platoon. Whereas the Samson pilots had gone for camouflage and survivability, the AMP operators were going for terror factor. Each of the massive exoskeletons had been turned into a gleeful, terrible work of art. Most had taken their inspiration from mythology, Christian demons, Chinese dragons, even one that had Cerberus decorating its front. The _Oberst_'s, however, certainly stood out.

Weigand's mechanic had gone with a uniform shade of midnight black, and then carefully painted human bones across it, the skull grinning from its place near the top of the cockpit. The _Oberst_ had loved it, laughing out loud when the AMP was carefully brought out for him to see. He had been even more delighted with the mechanic had showed off that there were matching bones painted on both the sides, top, and rear of the AMP, ensuring that it would retain its skeletal appearance from any angle.

_It's almost.. frivolous. Like they're trying to forget we could all die in the next twenty-four hours_. He mused. He couldn't really blame them. If there was something he could do to forget, he would be doing it. As it was… all he could really do was supervise the Ops-Center, which was running just fine on its own. His miners were all heading to their positions, the mining equipment had been secured, and the building's defenses were online and waiting.

He strode slowly over to the holotable, and then brought up the thermal scans. The numerous heat concentrations were much closer now, and they were creeping closer by the minute. The jungle in front of and between the blue-skin groups had slowly increased in temperature as well, no doubt due to the native creatures now joining their parade.

Sighing, his eyes continued to stare at the image. _All our pieces are in place. Kozlov and Jones are manning the forts and bunkers, Alder and his men are preparing for their last flight... my mining teams are all in position... All we can do now... all __we__ can do now is wait for the ax to fall._

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 32: Lucifer's Fury**

And here is Chapter 31. The humans are ready and waiting for the coming storm, should be a fun ride, no? Next up is 32, where the true war begins.

Would like everyone to know that I very much appreciate all the reviews I've gotten, and am always especially glad when someone new reviews.

**Review Please!**

Review Responses:

a sitting duk: True on both counts, you'll see how it ends up.

webfx: Glad you like it, and glad you can correct my german. It's... well it's... ok, saying i'm rusty at the language is a bit of an understatement.


	36. Chapter 32: Lucifer's Fury

Ya, so, I don't own Avatar.

* * *

**Chapter 32: Lucifer's Fury**

**Date**: 1130 May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

_Hauptmann_ Johannes Adler jogged lightly to_ Brunhilde_, even as the deep roar of alarms going off began to echo across the base. The mighty Valkyrie's engines were already beginning to come to life as he arrived, and he tossed a smile at the scantily dressed Valkyrie gracing her side as he passed.

The smile faded slightly as he entered through the slightly damaged 'bunker' on her aft end. Though they had repaired most of the damage done, the idea that the native creatures were strong enough to warp the metal as easily as they had did not fill him with reassurance.

He made a mental note to himself; _We will have to ensure that none get that close, if it is possible. _It probably wouldn't be, in the end, but keeping several of his Samsons in a close defensive formation should keep her clear for as long as possible.

_Not that we truly expect to survive_, he mused as he made his way to the copilots seat. _It would be nice, and it is something to hope for, but it is just a faint hope at this point_.

"_Guten Nacht, Hauptmann_." the pilot greeted as he sat, _Brunhilde_ shaking slightly as she began to lift off.

"_Guten Nacht_." he returned easily, bringing up the main satellite scans of the area. The Samsons of his _Valkyrie Kampfgruppe_ were already airborne, hovering lightly in a loose formation as they waited for the great behemoth to begin moving towards Site 01. The last few of the Americans were hurrying into their protective bunkers, and the reports showed that Kozlov and his Russians were already secured into their two complexes.

The thermal images of the surrounding areas painted the bleak picture for him. The three native prongs to the north had merged into two mixed groups of savages and beasts. One looked like it was heading directly for Tartarus, the other, that traitor Sully's band, was moving around and was aiming for Site 02. The eastern band had increased their speed, despite the previous night's attack, and were rapidly approaching site 01 even as _Brunhilde_ began to move.

_They must have had scouts ahead of them, on dire horses so that we would have a difficult time locating them. _

His comm system flashed, the register showing that it was Kozlov.

A hand punched the acknowledge button, "_Ja? _We are en route now _mein freund_._"_

"Good," his Russian compatriot's voice came across clearly, "Our thermals are picking up their lead scouts, one kilometer out."

"We will be there in five minutes to begin the engagement."

"Acknowledged." the communication cut off without any wasteful chatter.

His squadron fell into formation around _Brunhilde_ as she accelerated out of the base and towards the incoming blue-skin hoard.

Bringing up the squadron's communications frequency, he gave his orders, "Hostiles approaching Mining Site 01, _Brunhilde_ will fall into a holding pattern and begin a general bombardment until the hostiles reach the bunker complex. Squadron is to provide screening and missile support as needed."

A chorus of pilots acknowledging the orders came across his comm system before he continued, "We are the only air power available, I want no heroics, every man, and every machine, is invaluable. I want to see everyone there when we ship home, so that we may all drink together in Kiel once more."

Laughter sounded at the last bit, and he smiled as they closed the distance, passing over the misshapen, man-made hill that was host to the mining site's bunker complex.

He could see the banshees now, their appearance akin to a dark cloud, slowly moving towards them. _Brunhilde's _engines roared gamely as the pilot brought her nose up, ascending and banking into a wide turn. The Samsons mimicked the maneuver, forming into a protective sphere around the massive shuttle, the sensor net flashing as they began to acquire missile locks.

A quick glance at the thermals showed the initial wave of dire-horse riders slowly building up steam as they closed the distance to the mining site, the motion like a wave across the image.

"The banshee riders must have slowed to let the ground-pounders keep up." he murmured quietly. He expelled his breath in an earthly sigh as _Brunhilde_'s turn brought her guns to bear, nodded to himself, and gave the order.

"_Valkyrie Kampfgruppe, feuer frei_."

Missiles immediately lanced out into the night, and the deck shook as the heavy forty-millimeter guns began to roar.

This time, the natives weren't as surprised by the attack. The Banshees dove upon sighting the flashes, and thermals showed the dire-horses expanding into a full gallop as the explosions began to shred the jungle trees around them.

Evasive maneuvers or no, dozens still died in the opening moments. Adler watched as missiles swerved after their targets, explosions brightening the night as pieces of both savage and beast fell from the sky. The ground thermals became hazy as the heat from explosions began to tear across jungle, sending soil and foliage flying.

The enraged blue-skins swarmed towards them, and he saw the flashes of light from the direction of the mine indicating that the men within the complex had opened fire.

"Pilot, take us to the mining site, Gunners, prepare to begin aimed support fire!" he shouted. He had to, even with the comm system. _Brunhilde_'s overtaxed engines and roaring main battery made it difficult to hear, even with earpieces.

Even as she broke out of her circling pattern, the banshees began to arrive.

The scanners painted a chaotic picture, made worse by looking outside. The twilight conditions, camouflaged Samsons, and naturally dark Banshees made seeing anything visually an extreme challenge. Tracer rounds were flying everywhere, dark shapes falling from the sky, damage reports coming in as his Samsons were hit by arrows.

He smirked slightly at the last. The Samsons were getting hit, and hurt, but not killed. The natives, in their haste to evade the missiles, had given up the main advantage in any aerial combat: altitude. Without the speed of a dive to accelerate their arrows, they were having a difficult time piercing the thick glass and hulls of the helicopters.

The smirk faded to a wince, however, as first one, then two Samsons broke off, their pilots reporting that their side gunners had been killed. A third began what could only be described as a 'controlled fall' after one of its rotors was shot out, the pilot struggling to get the craft to the mining site before it crashed into the jungle.

"Samsons 12, 14, escort 11 in, ensure no blue-skins engage her!" he snapped, watching as two of his precious ships broke from the formation, side guns roaring as they fell into escort positions around their burning comrade, driving off the natives who had attempted to swarm the fleeing craft.

_Brunhilde's_ voice began to speak once more as she fell into another long bank; the edge of the clearing separating the complex from the jungle coming into view as the pilot maneuvered her. A glance out the window told him all he needed to know about the tactical situation on the ground.

The savages were being slaughtered wholesale. They'd managed to destroy the sentry guns protecting two of the kill-zones with their fire-bombs, but had literally carpeted the ground with their own dead to do it. What native fauna had participated looked to have already fallen; the scrap-metal barrier was filled with what looked like the corpses of nearly every kind of land animal in the region.

A few fires were burning on the hill, where some of the natives had been able to get close enough to through their weapons, but they were all under control from appearances, and _Brunhilde_ quickly scoured the few surviving natives trying to find a way into the complex.

The appearance of the massive Valkyrie, and the deaths of the few savages who had managed to even _reach_ the complex broke whatever courage the natives had summoned. Those warriors who still could melted back into the jungle, and the banshees began to drop into the tree tops.

"Do not pursue, repeat, do not pursue." he transmitted, watching the retreat.

The occasional arrow flew outwards, imbedding itself harmlessly into the dirt or ricocheting off the concrete, and was always answered by a short burst of gunfire. A few of the braver savages were slowly moving into the scrap barrier, appearing to try and use the scraps as a limited form of cover. He glanced at the screen that kept track of the Valkyrie's ammunition.

_Almost dry for the main batteries, though her machine guns were still well stocked_. _Her machine guns aren't her true purpose though._ _They can sting, but the main guns can _hurt.

Glancing one more time at the field of corpses and the skirmish the battle had devolved to, he nodded to himself. _"Kampfgruppe_, withdraw to Tartarus for rearming and refueling."

* * *

**Date**: 0200, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Total casualties were fifteen of my airmen," Adler's voice came over the comm system in the Ops-Center, "One Samson lost permanently, another managed to set down with a damaged rotor at site 01. Ammunition is very low for my main guns and for my escorts' machine guns. We are retiring to rearm."

"Proceed _Hauptmann_." Weigand returned shortly.

Parker nodded to himself slightly. "So far so good then?"

The _Oberst_ nodded as well, "_Ja_. Light casualties overall, eighteen total with the three who died in their pillbox when a fire-bomb hit it, but the natives failed utterly to overwhelm the complex, and their fauna support proved totally ineffective at the location."

Though he did feel more confident now that the eastern prong had been, at least, repulsed, he was still worried. "But we've still had no contact with Patel, and who knows what their actual casualties were."

Weigand frowned, and then nodded, more slowly this time. "True. Thomes' best guess is that there's still at least five hundred left, more likely to be around eight hundred, but they've dispersed into the area, it's harder to track them. And as for the other... I hesitate to guess, but it would unfortunately seem that Dr. Patel has failed in his mission, if things have progressed this far."

_That... is not good news_. His eyes slowly fell to the table before him, as much as he tried to avoid looking at it, he could still see the thermal scans showing the much more massive northern groups approaching.

"How long?" he asked quietly.

The_ Oberst_ didn't pretend to misunderstand him. "Three hours for the first group, five for Sully if they intend to skirt our defenses."

"What are you going to have Adler do?"

"Rearm, refuel, get new gunners for the Samsons that need them, and then support the northern defenses. They _have_ to hold against the coming storm."

He frowned and stared at the massive swarm approaching, "_Can_ we hold out against better than three thousand natives, plus all those beasts?"

There was an arched eyebrow in response, "Do we have a choice?"

Parker did not care for that answer. Not, one, bit.

* * *

**Date**: 0449, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Outer Command Bunker, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Captain Michael Jones stared at the small holotable crammed into his command bunker, watching as Adler's Valkyrie Squadron slowly lifted off and prepared to do battle once more. His subordinates began to chorus out that their positions were manned and ready, waiting only for the blue-skins to enter their range.

He didn't need to make a speech; his men and women knew the score. They were all veterans, having served as combat engineers in a host of battlefields; the names of Rangoon, Sarajevo, Montevideo, Baghdad, and a dozen others decorated their battalion flag back home. They were no strangers to death and violence.

But this… well, this was different. They weren't just fighting for the Stars and Stripes anymore. They were fighting for everyone back on Terra.

A flick brought his headset online. "Listen up. The blue-skins are approaching, two klicks out and accelerating. They're gonna try and run right over us, but that ain't gonna happen. Those blue monkeys think they can take this ground from _us_. Those moronic jarheads back home think they've got the monopoly on American courage. The airborne think they're the only ones who can win an impossible battle."

He could hear the war-cries of the approaching savages now, even as he spoke, "Well, you know what? _Fuck. Them. _We are going to hold this god damned worthless ground. We are going to slaughter those mother-fuckers who killed our friends, who are doing everything they can to make sure Terra _dies_! We are going to fucking _hold _this line against everything they throw at us."

The natives were approaching rapidly now, the close-range thermals began to glow. His people broke out into wolf howls, as they had done the night of the first raid by the savages, what seemed like so long ago now.

Far above them, missiles began to streak downwards as the Germans played their part, and _Brunhilde_'s heavy guns began to fire a few moments later, decorating the forest with explosions. He could hear deep _thumps_ from behind the lines as their pitifully few light mortars began to lob their payloads of death into the oncoming hoard. Flares shot out into the night, bursting into red light as they slowly descended, revealing a sight from hell.

A solid wall of savages and beasts raced towards them. Massive titanoheres charged forwards, dire-horses and their riders shouting and screaming challenges, with viper wolves sprinting underfoot.

His engineers didn't need him to say a word, the instant they could see their enemy, they opened fire with everything they had. Heavy fifty-caliber machine guns roared in tandem with assault rifles, the even deeper roar of their precious forty-mills sounded as they hurled armor-piercing death into the super-fauna charging them.

Heart pounding, he moved quickly to the firing slit on his bunker, grabbing his rifle, swiftly gazed down the sights, and began to fire a long burst. Aiming didn't matter much. He would have to be _trying_ to miss.

Nothing could have truly prepared them for this. The swarm rushed closer, even as countless of them fell. The massive super-fauna collapsed, with some simply exploding into gory masses as the armor-piercing rounds tore into them. More vanished into explosions as the mortar rounds fell and _Brunhilde_ stepped up her pace of fire. He watched a tracer round from a forty-millimeter cannon as it missed the Thanator it was aiming at and simply rip through bodies as it roared down range. The single round must have slain a dozen at least in their packed formation. In the end, it didn't matter.

In the mere minute between the launching of the first flare, and the savages reaching his lines, hundreds must have died. And still they came on. It was courage to the point of pure insanity, like nothing he had ever seen before. No human force could have crossed that ground without breaking, but here, the natives took everything that he could throw at them and still they came on.

The viper wolves reached the line first, his few flamethrowers reached out, torching many that made it, trying to keep them out of the trenches. Most of the six legged beasts died before they could leap into the slit in the soil, but a few made it. And then the screams started.

_Too damn many are coming!_ he swore to himself, activating his headset once more, "_Oberst! _We need your reserve team _now!_" he shouted.

"Two minutes." The brusque German voice returned.

"We don't _have_ two minutes!" he bellowed at his superior before cutting the signal.

He could hear screaming outside as the creatures tore into his people, the beasts shrieking as bullets and fire tore into them.

Slamming a new clip into his rifle, he resumed firing at the still approaching horde. Not many of the Viper-wolves had made it, but they were distracting his people, lessening the fire headed outwards into the still incoming forces. The only thing he could be thankful for was that the super-fauna had not made it, the giant herd of hard-headed creatures had been torn apart by the heavy guns, and what few Thanators had been present had drawn most of _Brunhilde's _ire.

Any thoughts of being thankful about anything vanished when the cavalry charge reached the trench line. Blue-skins leaped from the backs of their mounts into the trench line, and shouts and war-cries in two different languages began to flood the area. More tried to push deeper into the base, to be met by sporadic fire from what reserves they had in the deeper trench lines.

He sprinted to a new firing position, a small slit aiming along the trench to the bunker's right. _Can't worry about them, the interior defenses will have to deal with it._

Just as he brought his weapon up again, one of his soldiers in the trench screamed as a native slammed his foot into her chest and sent her hurtling down to the ground, raising its bow to deliver the _coup de grace_.

He put a three round burst into its head before the arrow was even cocked back. The woman, swearing, stumbled to her feet and fired a burst down the trench at a viper wolf, dropping it.

The line had devolved into chaos. Natives and Engineers fought each other at point blank range, fire-bombs and grenades were exploding all along the trenches. Tracer rounds from the defenses around the Ops-Center flew outwards as they provided what fire support they could.

Far overhead, something exploded. Mere moments later the flaming wreck of a Samson slammed into the ground just outside the line, cutting down three natives and an engineer, all luckless enough to be too close.

He fired another burst down the line, the native slumping and collapsing off of its dire horse before it could dismount. An arrow hurled downwards, the woman whose life he had saved less than minute before gave a choked scream and fell as it pierced her chest clean through.

"Son of a bitch!" he swore, glancing at the holotable behind him. The aerial battle was as chaotic as the ground battle, and was going even worse for the humans. Adler's people were doing everything they could, but there were just too many natives. Too many banshees. Too many of everything. His Samsons were clinging to _Brunhilde_, trying their best to support one another, but yet another Samson plummeted to the ground even as he glanced at the read-out.

"God dammit Weigand, where are you!?"

* * *

**Location**: Outer Defenses, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Karyu was terrified. He had been expecting a fight like in the tales, where the courage of the People and the fury of _Eywa_ would drive the _tawtute_ before them, where the cowardly _faketuan_ would flee before their righteous fury, and the victorious People would return, with tales to tale for generations.

Not… not this. Nothing like this.

Not watching his clan die around him as the _tawtute_'s terrible weapons bit into his clan. Not watching his mate's body simply vanishing as an explosion of fire erupted next to her _pa'li_. His father screaming as blood exploded from his chest. His brother collapsing limply as something caused his head to simply burst in a rush of blood and gore.

His _pa'li _was just as terrified as he, her hooves struggling to keep her balance as they raced towards the _tawtute, _the stench of death thick in the air as they raced over the corpses of those who had been before them.

He screamed as an explosion erupted to his left, the bond with his mount breaking as the force hurled him off her back and into the thin hole the _tawtute_ warriors were fighting from.

Coughing, he tried to stumble to his feet. A foot nearly went out from under him as he slipped on the corpse of a _nantang_, and he fought to control his stomach at the stench of blood and burnt flesh.

_You are not a child, you are a warrior of the people! You must defend Eywa, so that the sacrifice of your tribe is not in vain!_ His mind screamed at him, and he steeled himself as he hunched over and ran down the thin path.

Turning a corner, he saw, for the first time, a _tawtute_ up close. Its face was covered by a gleaming object of some kind, its skin covered by dark green and blue cloth. It held a cold metal weapon up to its shoulder, fire barking from its end as it hurled death. He swiftly raised his bow and let fly before it could see him, before it could bring that weapon to bear. The arrow hurled the small creature to the ground, it let out a scream and began to thrash. A quick grab brought a second arrow to his bow, and he fired again. It went still. Gulping, he strung another arrow to his bow in case it rose again.

Eyes staring widely at the creature he had just slain, he almost didn't notice the other _tawtute_ as it turned the corner ahead of him. His hands moved faster than his brain, releasing his arrow. It slammed into the creature's black heart, the _tawtute_ collapsing against the side wall, twitching slightly.

_I've just killed two of them... _it didn't seem real. It had been... far too easy. How could killing them be so easy, when they had slain so many?

He was jolted from staring at the two corpses when another member of his clan leaped into the pit next to him.

"_Karyu!_ _You must hurry! Come! Their heart is laid bare for us_!" the blood-soaked daughter of the _olo'eyktan_ shouted at him, pointing to the dark building further inside the _tawtute_'s unnatural home. Several others were already firing their bows at the _tawtute_ defending it, and she was urging more to follow.

Gulping, he grabbed the edge of the dirt wall, preparing to haul himself up and follow the others, when the ground began to shake.

The eerie howling of the _tawtute_ resumed their voices unnaturally loud, even amidst the cacophony of their weapons.

_There!_ His eyes snapped to the base of the stone building, _Something large!_

A voice boomed across the battlefield, loud enough to rattle the teeth within his jaw,"_Wir sind Deutsch Krieger! Wir sind Ihr Alptraum_!"

With that incomprehensible bellow, a host of nightmares emerged from the darkness. He had heard tales of great machines, in the shapes of people, which the _tawtute_ used for war. He had always assumed the stories were just that, stories.

He had been wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

A scream tore from his throat as the mechanical beasts charged towards them, and his scream increased as they entered the lights from the burning fires.

"_Vrttep!_" the word came from a dozen throats.

Each was an image from a nightmare, the charging monstrosity in front had the appearance of a skeleton given life, the horribly grinning skull leering at them as its weapon roared.

His courage failed him utterly as they stormed forwards, several didn't bother shooting their weapons at the people before them, simply batting them aside like toys, crushing the wounded underfoot.

Scrambling back across the _tawtute_'s pit, he ignored the shouts for bravery, he ran for the safety of the jungle.

_One cannot fight demons! _He thought furiously as he leaped out of the thin line, his feet blurring as he ran. His bow lay forgotten behind him.

The voice shouting for bravery and courage suddenly transitioned into a scream. He ran harder.

His feet had just reached the edge of the jungle when something slammed into his shoulder. He turned to snarl at the _skxawng_ who had shoved him. There was no one there. His body felt cold, and when he looked at his shoulder, he gaped. His right arm was gone, only splintered bone and torn flesh remained. Pain slammed through his chest at the sight of it. He tried to scream, but the breath wouldn't come.

The soil felt hard beneath him as he collapsed. Then everything turned to darkness.

* * *

**Date**: 0330, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Ops-Center, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Get firefighting teams to the defenses now!" Parker shouted, "Get medics out there too!"

The Ops-Center was in chaos, everyone struggling to restore order to the wreck that was the northern defense line.

The natives had begun to fall back after Weigand's charge had broken their assault, and the AMPs had cleared the trench line without losing any of their number. The damage had been done, however, to both the American engineers and the German airmen.

Of _Valkyrie Kampfgruppe_, only a burn-scarred _Brunhilde_ and a trio of battered Samsons returned to the airfield. Preliminary reports indicated that Jones' _Präriewolf Kampgruppe_ wasn't in much better shape, with easily a quarter of his people down, and god alone knew how many wounded.

Which left only the Russian _Bär Kampfgruppe_, huddled in their bunker complexes, the only full-strength force remaining. And in less than two hours, Sully and his merry band would be hitting Kozlov at full force.

He swore out loud, and kept shouting orders. Their nightmare of a day had only just begun.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 33: Lucifer's Stand**

The longest chapter by far, because I couldn't resist going into detail in the action. Wasn't originally going to do the Na'vi pov shot, but since people asked for it, I thought about it and realized it fit in fairly well, being better than simply shifting to Parker to witness the charge as I had originally planned.

As I've changed up the character points of view, I'm going to let you all know i'm changing it up completely. Patel and Selfridge won't be having their own chapters anymore, instead you'll find both of their PoV's in the same chapters as the plot continues to progress. Rest assured, though OC's did get a long of screen time, and will keep getting it as the battle rages, those two are still the main characters.

Hope everyone enjoyed it, glad, as always, for the reviews I've been getting.

**Please keep reviewing, bonus points to new reviewers!**

* * *

Review Responses:

Mindteller: songs? As in _Ride of the Valkyries_ style, or as in what happened before, with the na'vi singing a war chant before they attacked? I'm a huge fan of music for combat, so you might see one or both in the following chapters.

coranth / angleus288: hope you liked it ;).


	37. Chapter 33: Lucifer's Stand

Breaking news, Jame's Cameron still owns Avatar, not me.

* * *

**Chapter 33: Lucifer's Stand**

**Date**: 05:45, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site 02, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

_Kapitán _Nikolai Kozlov listened carefully to the reports still flooding the airwaves. None of the news was especially good, which made it all the more vital to him, encased as he was within the bunker complex.

Skirmishing was still going on, both at the other mining site as well as at Tartarus itself. The enemy had been driven off, but was only temporarily. As soon as they mustered their courage and grouped together again, and he did not doubt for a moment that they would, the battle would resume.

This was both good, and bad, news for the human forces. Good, that they had a time to catch their breath, re-arm, resupply. Bad, because the enemy was still out there, preparing to attack once more, and he was not sure that they would be able to hold them off again. Their problem was the same problem faced by every elite army ever fielded by the human race. No matter how good their training, how powerful their weapons, how valiant their courage, all of it was meaningless in the face of the raw, overwhelming numbers that they were facing.

As a brutal man had said, so long ago, _"Eventually, quantity has a quality all of its own."_

Their only hope was to bleed the enemy white, until they could no longer stomach the thoughts of battle, and retreated.

It was a slim hope.

He sighed and turned to the holotable in the center of his command center, located deep in the bowels of the complex. The three-dimensional image of the complex showed the numerous tunnels connecting the pillboxes and bunkers, small green lights checking them off as manned, ready, and waiting for the enemy. The exterior thermals were updating constantly, detailing the mass of native savages slowly encroaching around the entire site.

"Yet more bad news." he muttered. The other two prongs had accelerated just before they attacked, launching full frontal assaults, which had predictably suffered extreme casualties. This group was acting in a far more intelligent fashion, trying to find ways through the scrap barrier instead of blundering into the kill-zones.

He brought up the channel to his tiny mortar squad, nestled safely back at Tartarus, "Mortar platoon, target, 700 meters due north of bunker complex, fire for effect."

"_Da, Kapitán!"_

The beautiful thing about mortars compared to regular artillery was that you did not hear them coming. There was no piercing scream as the round tore through the air, there were simply the explosions as they impacted trees, earth, and flesh.

The thermals painted the picture well, heat blossoms appearing amidst the blue-skin forces.

He grinned tightly, "Solid aim! Walk rounds south-east, 30 degrees, maximum effort."

Though there only four mortars in his platoon, they were firing like he had a full battery on call. The aim began to drift as they fired at their maximum rate, but with the rounds falling like rain, he was obliged to forgive them.

He nodded slowly as the native mob began to move rapidly forwards, they were not going to sit there and take the artillery fire, even as light as it was in the face of their numbers.

"Artillery, slow rate of fire, and switch to local control." he changed to the complex-wide signal, "Heavy gun crews, target super-fauna, all other forces target the natives, fire at will."

Tracer rounds began to flash as the heavy machine guns began to hurl fire into the jungle. The heavier roar of their main guns sounded through the complex as the gunners carefully fired their armor-piercing rounds at the incoming beasts.

He felt a slight snarl build within him. He could not _see_ what was happening here. The thermals were accurate, in their own way, but they could not show the exact composition of what was approaching, only that there was a lot of it, concentrated in a long band from his northeast to western sides. And the enemy, damn them, was keeping the bulk of their forces hidden within the dense foliage.

More roars began above his head as the precious few fifty-caliber weapons relegated to anti-air work began firing, thirty-caliber weapons joining in as the native banshee riders swarmed downwards. Screams of both pain and challenge came across the comm system as the much more vulnerable anti-air crews came under severe arrow fire.

He swore loudly as the casualty reports began to come in, the radar painting a bleak image of swarming banshees and Great Leonopteryx above them, and barked new orders, "Air batteries, withdraw inside now! We can't afford to lose any more of you!"

The men and women did not even bother responding, simply releasing their weapons and bolting inside as rapidly as they could, sealing the doors behind them.

The roar of gunfire began to die off; he frowned and turned back to the thermals.

"What the..." the natives had made a single, small push, and after suffering several casualties, had pulled back into the jungle.

"Mortar battery reporting, low on ammunition, ceasing fire."

The transmission broke him from his stupor, "Acknowledged, good work, maintain alert."

He continued to frown at the screen. The bulk of the native forces suddenly began to move again, but _not_ towards his complex. Instead they were heading southeast, around his right flank and towards the road leading to Site 01 and Tartarus beyond it. The force paused upon reaching the road, and then began to accelerate along it, fragments drifting into the forests, diffusing to the point where the thermals had issues picking them up.

"Son of a bitch! God damn that American traitor!" he could not help swearing out loud, only retaining enough presence of mind to make sure his headset was not on. The other three soldiers in the command center blinked and turned to face their commander

It did not take them long to realize what was happening either, and their swearing began almost immediately.

He slammed his fist down on the holotable and brought up his priority channel to Weigand, "_Oberst_, this is Kozlov, enemy is bypassing Site 02, repeat, _enemy is bypassing Site _02. Appear to be leaving a rear guard along the road to ensure we cannot pursue. Sully appears to be moving towards Site 01, most likely intending to use the road to evade the majority of the outer defenses, over."

A short Germanic curse greeted his news, "Acknowledged, tell your people there to prepare for a full encirclement of their position. I'm sending Adler to reinforce the position with _Brunhilde_."

"I'm requesting permission to pursue!"

"Denied, you'd be slaughtered and you know it. Alert your people there and remain in position until I order otherwise."

Acknowledging the command; he slammed his fist down once more in anger, before opening the channel to warn his subordinates what was coming towards them.

* * *

**Date**: 06:55, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site 01, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

_Brunhilde_ shuddered as the remains of her last escort slammed into her roof, the Leonopteryx that had thrown the machine around like a toy winging rapidly away.

They had arrived less than twenty minutes ago to find the battle fully underway. The already battered eastern forces had slowly crept forwards, using the dead bodies of their kin for what cover they could, and began to hurl fire-bombs and shoot arrows in the gunnery slits. The massive force swarming from the other direction had simply sprinted down the road, assaulting the weakest area of the complex with raw speed and ferocity.

The Russian defenders and miners inside were surrounded, trapped, and were fighting with the desperate, craven nature of cornered animals. The communications channels were filled with the sounds of gunfire and screaming as they fought in vain to hold off the massive swarm. Some officers were desperately trying to keep their fire teams focusing their fire appropriately, while others were equally screaming for reinforcements at junctions within the interior, gunfire and screams punctuating their shouts.

In the sky, Adler's helicopter squadron had not lasted long. They had hurled their missiles into the fray as they approached, then done everything they could to keep the enemy from swarming _Brunhilde_, but the enemy had simply swarmed them, tearing the machines apart one by one.

Below, another burst of light flared amid the dawn as a pillbox's ammunition exploded, the air wave causing the Valkyrie to shudder. The bunker complex itself already glowed with the lights of a dozen fires, with yet more starting as fire-bombs both rained from the sky or were hurled by the blue-skin warriors on the ground. Only intermittent gunfire responded. Far too many humans were fighting for their lives inside the complex against the viper-wolves and blue-skins that had torn through the doors and raced into the darkened tunnels. He doubted that the savages would handle themselves well in the tight confines, but the viper-wolves… they would exact a fearful toll on the Russians and the miners within.

"Fire on the right wing!" the bellow came from one of the top bunkers, causing Adler and the pilot to swear in unison.

"Slow starboard engines by twenty percent, increase their coolant intake to maximum!" the pilot's hands flew over the controls as he struggled to carry out the orders.

He took the flight controls, his forward mounted gun having been torn off by a banshee ten minutes previously, and wrestled to keep the great ship in the air while the pilot continued his frantic work. Her guns kept roaring throughout, her main battery spitting death at the savage cavalry trying to head north to Tartarus, while her numerous defensive guns tried desperately to keep the airborne threats away.

But in this, her own size was working against her. Her massive bulk made her an easy target for the enemy to hurl their fire-bombs at, and her hull was burning in several places. Her aft bunker had been torn open by a Leonopteryx, and though the beast had been slain, the gunners there were fighting a furious battle to prevent the natives from trying to simply board her.

He had just managed to restore his ship to level flight when the ship shuddered once more, her tortured body screaming in protest as one of the overheated starboard engines simply exploded as a fire-bomb struck it directly.

She dipped suddenly to the right, swerving down far too swiftly to the ground. The pilot swore, seizing the controls back. The remaining starboard engine's lights began to flicker as he pushed it beyond its capabilities, while the port engines cooled as he expertly leveled them off.

"We need to fall back sir! The engine won't last much longer!"

"_Nein!_ We can't abandon the men in the complex!" he shouted back.

"They're already dead _Hauptmann!_"

He winced, the words an icy blow to his gut. He stared out the window at the burning hill of concrete and soil, the flashes of outwards gunfire slowly faltering, the radio still chorusing with gunfire and screams.

"_Scheisse!_ Do it."

The pilot kept up their long starboard bank, steadying them out on a northerly course as he struggled to gain altitude.

Tapping his communications channel open, he reported as quickly as he could, "_Oberst_, I regret to inform you that Site 01 is lost. _Brunhilde_ has sustained major damage; we are attempting to withdraw to Tartarus."

"Confirmed _Hauptmann_, get your people back here. Thermals show the natives are advancing and spreading out, preparing to his us from all sides. Kozlov is still pinned down at Site 02, as soon as you land get your people into the interior trenches, we need every man." Weigand's voice was laced with tension, the heavy gunfire sounding occasionally betraying the fact that he was in his AMP suit.

The natives were not content to let the massive gunship escape, as soon as they saw her beginning to withdraw, they ceased attempting to stay at range and swarmed towards her from every direction.

Her machine guns continued to spit tracer rounds in every direction as she tried to limp home, her heavy guns ceasing their ground-pounding, the gunners frantically aiming at the more pressing airborne targets. One banshee simply exploded in red cloud, broken, bleeding wreckage falling from the sky after a high explosive round slammed into its chest, others dove and banked away, attempting to avoid that side of the shuttle.

The communications chatter from the gun bunkers streamed across the interior channels, giving the pair in the cockpit the grim news moment by moment.

"There! There! Leo with a rider, target it!"

"Can't see it, banked below us!"

"Five banshees, starboard, kill them!"

"Increase fire aft! They're trying to board!"

"Another Leo! Coming in port!"

"They're aboard! They're ab-"

The last broke off in gunfire and screaming. The main guns suddenly ceased fire, and the gunfire within her hull increased as their crews sized their weapons and rushed to the aft end of the ship.

The radar image screamed a warning at him; six lithe objects were diving from high altitude, directly towards the already burning starboard wing.

"_Starboard, high! __Tötet sie!" _he bellowed.

The upper bunkers responded instantly, gunfire slashing at the diving natives. One fell. Another. Two more. Then the last two were past the ship, and their remaining starboard engine had burst into flames.

Alarms screamed in the cockpit as both the pilot and Alder fought to keep the massive craft in the air, desperately trying to feed coolant into the wing. The already overtaxed engine was screaming now, the built in fire-suppression system overwhelmed.

"Can we make Tartarus!?" he shouted to the pilot.

The other man shot him a glance, and shook his head just as the engine's fuel line detonated, sending the entire right wing hurling off of the ship in pieces.

_Brunhilde _began her final dive, trailing fire behind her.

He felt... oddly calm as he stared at the onrushing ground, the G forces slowly pushing him back into his seat.

Almost leisurely, he activated the channel to his _Oberst_, "_Ich werde Sie in Walhalla sehen mein Freund_."

He did not hear any response, but then, he did not really expect one either.

The ground rushed up to meet them. There was a flash of light, the screaming roar of tortured metal, and then there was nothing.

* * *

**Date**: 07:15, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Ops-Center, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The explosion was massive, even from a distance. Parker stared at the fading flash, and the entire Ops-Center quieted around him.

"Was that _Brunhilde_?" he asked into the silence.

No one in the Ops-Center responded to him, but the massive gunship was no longer present amongst the chaos on the holotable. Beyond the loss of their air power, they could no longer raise Site 01, the overwhelmed complex was completely silent to their hails.

What had looked like a pair of banshees had flown from Sully's force to the group to the north, no doubt bearing orders. Shortly after they arrived, the blue-skins had begun to slowly spread out from their dense formation, beginning instead to encircle the entire base. More savages arriving from the mining site had begun a similar maneuver, and he guessed that the human colony would be totally surrounded within the hour.

_Oberst_ Weigand and Captain Jones had been forced to spread their people out across the entire perimeter. There was no way they would be able to hold for very long, not against a determined attack. The troops would have to fall back to the trenches and defenses around the Ops-Center, the ones his miners were currently defending.

To make matters even more hectic, Kozlov kept requesting permission to try and fight his way out, to get his people back to Tartarus, but Weigand had shot him down each time. As much as Parker truly wanted the detachment of Russians and his miners to get back to the base, he had to admit that it would be suicide for them to try. A little over a hundred men, without AMPs, without air-cover, trying to fight their way through thousands of savages across three kilometers of jungle… No, they would have to stay put in the relative safety of their complex until they could think of something.

_But what the hell are we going to think of?_

He could not even begin to answer his own question. The natives' losses were insane, they _had _to be. Even from here he could see the carpet of bodies lying before the northern trenches, and he could not even imagine how many had to have died at Site 01 when they swarmed it.

But despite all of that, Thomes's last report from orbit had guesstimated the hostiles were down to just over three and a half thousand natives, with an unknown number of beasts still darting around. The biggest problem was not the numbers themselves; rather it was that Sully's group was still mostly intact. He and the others were sure that it contained all of the savages the bastard had no doubt spent time training how to _actually_ fight.

Expelling his breath in a long sigh, he fought to keep his fear off of his face as he saw Weigand and his AMP teams redeploying to the southern perimeter, getting ready to fight against the oncoming horde.

* * *

**Date**: 07:25, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Tree of Souls, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Mo'at had been weeping almost uncontrollably ever since she had rejoined with Eywa over an hour ago, and Max had no idea what to do. She had been continuously trying to convince her goddess, praying, begging, everything and anything the _tsahik_ could think of to stop the fighting. But she had never burst into tears, clutching at the branches of the sacred tree like a lifeline.

Hesitating, he glanced at Norm and the two carefully moved up towards her.

"Mo'at? What is it?" he kept his voice as soft as he could.

There was a very long silence before she responded, her voice distant, "So much death... so many lives in pain..."

"The battle has started," Norm whispered quietly.

"It's probably been going on since last night," he nodded, "Mo'at, are you all right? Do you need anything?"

More silence. "The pain to stop."

He winced, "Eywa still won't listen?"

The Na'vi matriarch slowly detached herself from the branch, nearly collapsing in place, tears still silently streaming down her face. "The great mother believes the only way to stop the pain is to drive the _tawtute_ from her body."

His hand flickered through his hair, "Dammit. Why won't she _listen_?"

"Because she is a goddess of life, and is acting as she sees fit to preserve her children and the balance." the _tsahik_ replied to his rhetorical question, drawing in deep breaths to bring herself under control.

Sitting heavily, he groaned, "There could be a balance _with_ the humans here though. Yes, they're going to damage things, it's unavoidable, but contained damage can be managed, and they can heal what they hurt when they're finished. Did you ask her to look into Grace's memories, about those weapons?"

The _tsahik _shuddered violently, "I saw them." she whispered.

"Did Eywa?"

"Of course."

"And _that_ didn't convince her? You can't defend against things like that! I mean, the best response even _humans_ have to those weapons is to not be where they explode!"

Mo'at shook her head slowly, "She saw, but did not listen to my voice. Grace's memories are alien to her, difficult to read. Flashes of insight, not one of your… what are they called, 'books'? I saw flashes of terror and horror at the idea of those weapons, but not much more than that. It is very difficult to convince the great mother to act against her chosen course…"

Norm laughed quietly, "Humans don't _see_, but Na'vi can't _listen_. That's irony."

The Na'vi woman turned to glare at Norm, who held up his hands in apology, "Sorry... just... just had to laugh at something before I break down."

Her eyes softened and she nodded. He sighed and stared at the lightly glowing tree.

"We have to keep trying, or this battle is going to tear everything apart."

"It already has." Mo'at responded quietly, "I felt the deaths of hundreds of my people... of _toruk_'s pride, of _nantang_'s rage. The battle rages on and soon nothing but ashes will remain of both our peoples."

They sat in silence for a long while, simply staring at the tree, trying to find some avenue of argument that they had not yet tried.

Katrina broke them from their reverie, "Max! That Thomes chick is on the line for you."

He sighed and got up, jogging over. Behind him, Mo'at and Norm slowly rose and followed.

The pilot flicked on the microphone and speakers as he approached.

"Dr. Patel, have you made _any_ progress?" the Captain's voice was almost desperate.

"We convinced a _tsahik_ to aid us, but Eywa is not listening to our arguments."

"We can tell." she snapped at him, "We just lost on of our mining sites, and we're under total siege. Weigand doesn't think that we can withstand the next assault."

Everyone grimaced, "Casualties?" he asked.

"We've lost a quarter of our personnel KIA, and a lot of the rest are walking wounded. The natives have to have lost at least two-thousand, maybe more, but they're still coming dammit."

Mo'at held a hand to her mouth.

Thomes continued, "Get in touch with us as soon as you make any kind of progress. At all. We're short on hope here Doctor." She cut the link.

They all stared quietly at the radio for a while, before Mo'at silently turned and strode back to the tree, chanting softly as she began joining once more with her goddess.

Three humans and one Avatar watched her go, before slowly following, sitting on the ground and roots, staring at nothing as a titanic war for the fate of two species raged a few hundred kilometers away.

* * *

**Date**: 12:15, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Fall back! Repeat! All positions fall back to the inner defenses!" Jones was bellowing across the comm system, his voice hoarse from the bellowing.

Fires were raging all across the base, the tracer rounds of weapons were slashing everywhere, the heavy gun on the roof of the Ops-Center was bellowing its fury at the airborne natives trying to slay the soldiers below as they fled form one trench-line to another.

Everywhere he looked, Parker saw insanity. He could see Weigand's AMP team covering the withdrawal along their southern flank, while Jones was personally leading his best engineers to try and cover the retreat of the rest to the north. Savages were firing arrows from the trenches at the retreating men, and yet more of their people were screaming as fire-bombs covered them in flaming napalm, joining the natives screaming as bullets tore into their flesh.

He had thought he had seen was battle was like before, during both of the raids he had been caught in the middle of.

This fight was doing its best to show him how stupid that idea had been. How stupid even the _concept_ of that idea had been.

His eyes refused to be torn from the windows facing north, the engineers struggling to race across the open ground and get to the safety of the trenches around the Ops-Center, from where his miners were desperately trying to provide covering fire.

An engineer fell as a viperwolf tackled her, more of the beasts swarming in to feast. An explosion tore them all apart, and with a sickening drop of his stomach he realized that the American had pulled the pins on her own grenades, rather than be eaten alive.

Such feats of heroic insanity were all around him, and on both sides. A mortally wounded native woman bore down on an engineer whose own blood covered his body, both drawing knives as they thrashed and wrestled weakly on the ground.

An AMP, the triple headed image of Cerberus on its front grinning madly, raced north to provide what help it could. The pilot simply grabbed the native woman's queue with one mechanical fist, picked her up, and slammed her into the ground hard enough to leave a bloody stain where she impacted. The engineer she had been wrestling with lay still upon the ground.

He felt himself heaving, with nothing coming up. He had already vomited everything out of his stomach hours ago.

Tearing himself away from the scene outside, he stared instead at the holotable, staggering over to it. Less than a third of the American engineers remained now, even as the last few survivors leaped into the trenches around the building. The AMP team had lost half of their number, both to native fire-bombs as well as diving banshee riders. Weigand led his mechanical brutes into their own deep positions in the trench, and the battle began to slow once more.

Blinking rapidly, he stared at the screen and listened to the slowing gunfire outside. The natives slowly began to crawl, limp, or run back to the outer defenses, occasionally firing arrows inwards, but stopping their efforts to swarm the base.

A massive Leonopteryx, the only one still alive, glided to a landing in the jungle just outside the base, with most of the banshees following it down.

"Dammit!" He swore, "That's Sully! Do we have any mortar rounds left?"

"Negative sir." The communications officer shook her head. "We used the last two hours ago."

"Shit." shaking his head, he stared at the feed before activating his comm system, "Weigand, this is Selfridge, what are they doing?"

The _Oberst_ was panting with exertion, his voice weary, "Falling back, preparing to skirmish it appears. They've been fighting constantly for hours now, and working a bow is far more effort than firing a gun. They must intend to rest their arms for a while before they attempt to finish it."

"How long do you think?" he pressed.

Weigand's voice turned thoughtful, though no less exhausted, "Several hours at least. Most likely until nightfall."

"We still hold the main landing pad, should I have Thomes send her ship down for the wounded?"

"_Nein_." His voice laced with regret, "We cannot afford to lose our last shuttle, have the medics turn the apartment complex into a triage center."

He nodded, forgetting that the other man could not see him, "Think we can hold them tonight?"

"We've lost over half of our men here, but they've lost hundreds. Unless Sully manages to rally them, their morale must be very low at the moment. We might have a chance if we're able to stand fast."

Parker expelled his breath and nodded before frowning. Weigand had not sounded terribly confident.

He cut the communications and glanced down at the table before realizing something. His hands were shaking uncontrollably again. He gulped, and forced himself to sound calm as he shoved his hands into his pockets "Right. Let's get the wounded treated then."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 34: Lucifer's Fall**

Glad that everyone enjoyed the action in the last chapter, so here is some more. The battle continues to rage, though both sides are now badly battered, and Mo'at and Max continue to strive to convince Eywa to stop the madness.

Probably two more chapters of combat ahead, or maybe just one very long one, before it's over, one way, or the other.

**Please keep reviewing!**

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Review Responses:

AndreyRus: I agree that I'm better at the battle sequences, probably a consequence of reading too many war stories and playing too many rts and fps games. I do enjoy the philosophy bit though, and you can't get better at something without trying it.

forgotten shock trooper: that song is on my youtube writing playlist actually, though most of the last chapter was written to Requiem for a Tower.


	38. Chapter 34: Lucifer's Fall

Do I really have to say that I don't own Avatar at this point?

* * *

**Chapter 34: Lucifer's Fall**

**Date**: 19:55, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Ops Center, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The surviving humans, civilians and soldiers alike, had not been idle in the past seven hours. Though their progress was slow, under the supervision of Jones and the few engineers who had made it back to the inner defenses, they were digging, welding, and in general doing everything possible to further fortify the small strip of land they defended.

Parker nodded as, next to him, Weigand began to outline what he expected to happen in the next phase of the battle.

"We've established heavy defenses around both the Apartment Complex and the Ops-Center, both are critical. Trench-lines here and here connect our two bastions, and another runs to our last bunker, the one covering the airfield." the _Oberst_ manipulated the holoimage, and markers representing the various units appeared in the defenses, "What is left of _Kampfgruppe __Präriewolf _will hold the area around the Apartment Complex, while your miners and my AMP team will hold in position around the Ops-Center. The trenches connecting the two will have a skeleton guard, if they're rushed, the troops will fall back to our two defensive points."

He pointed to the Ops-Center, "The buildings themselves should be largely immune to burning, right? Are you going to fall back in here if you have to?"

"Only if we have to." Weigand nodded, "Our last line of defense will be retreating into the structures and fighting room to room." The older man paused, peering at him, "You look far less pale than you did when I arrived inside, Administrator."

"I do?" he blinked slowly, and then thought about it. He had been a wreck in the morning, after the outer defenses crumbled. After that, he had been forced to deal with the aftermath of that struggle, trying to organize a triage for the medics on one hand while managing where his mining crews were on the other. It was rapidly becoming a nightmare for him to keep any kind of order amidst his people, including telling who was left, and who was doing what. All he was really doing was trying to make sure everyone who was alive had the ammo they needed and was positioned where they might do some good.

Now that he thought about it again, however, he felt that dreaded feeling again. The cold terror moving through his body at the idea, no, the _knowledge_ that he would most likely be dead before the local sun rose again.

Shaking his head, almost violently, he replied, "Just staying busy, keeps my mind off of… things."

The _Oberst_ continued to gaze piercingly at him before nodding once more, "You are not the only one afraid of what may come, Parker. What's important is not allowing that fear to control you. Though you are not terribly well suited to combat and living with the fear of imminent death, you loathe being controlled, do you not?"

He halfheartedly glared at him, "After Quaritch, wouldn't anyone be?"

That brought a laugh, "I can well imagine." Weigand glanced around the Ops-Center, apparently making sure everyone was quite occupied, before he continued, "There is something I never did ask you before, that I probably should have, in hindsight."

Parker blinked at him in confusion.

The _Oberst_ leaned onto the holotable, "Strictly between us, _did_ you authorize the bulldozing of that sacred site, the one that set everything off last time?"

It took him a moment to realize what was being asked, "Isn't that a little late to be wondering about? I mean, shouldn't we be talking about what's happening _now_?"

"If we're going to die tonight, I would like to know."

He thought about it for a while. Thought about telling the truth. Thought about lying. Thought about why he had done what he did. Thought about the consequences of what had happened.

_I did what I did, for the company's best interest._ The old line seemed... stale somehow. Something he had said to himself so often that, instead of believing it, he had slowly realized just how pathetic it really was.

It had not seemed like a big deal at the time. It was simply the fastest route for the dozers to reach the giant tree, and the mountain of precious ore beneath it. Miles had been the one to point it out to him, saying that it could possibly demoralize the natives, give them one less attachment to the area, and maybe give them the break they needed to resolve everything quickly and quietly.

He had been so… _sick_ of it then. Sick of the 'responsibility' of being in charge, of being the one who had to handle _everything_ that happened at Hell's Gate. Sick of Augustine and her cronies' superiority complex. Sick of Quaritch and the Sec-Ops trying to find ways to supersede his authority. Just sick of it all.

The natives, and their continuous attacks on his mining teams, had simply been one problem too many. He did not want to kill them, despite the fact that they had no qualms about killing _his_ people, had not wanted them inside the tree when it went down, had not wanted to watch Quaritch fire missiles into the crowd. He just wanted them gone, moved, somewhere else, somewhere where he would have one less problem to deal with.

So why had he really done it?

He still did not know. Following orders? Pursuing the most efficient path? Trying to get it over with sooner rather than later?

All were true, but all were not quite why he had gone ahead and done it.

Shrugging, he replied to the patiently waiting _Oberst, _"Yes. I ordered it. You want a reason? I don't know. A dozen different things all played their part. I don't regret it, it was my job. Only things I regret were having Quaritch in charge of security, and accepting Jake Sully as an Avatar driver after his brother died. Without them, maybe it would have worked out without everyone dying, both sides."

The other man seemed to consider that. "An honest set of answers, at least." The German turned his gaze to the table once more, "I cannot pass judgment upon what happened. That is not my place. You acted, as I believe, most humans in your position would have done." A slight chuckle, "Did you know, I did not understand Quartich's loathing of the Na'vi before I came here. Even yesterday, I still did not. But now... after fighting them, watching the beasts devour the wounded and the dying. Watching my friends, the people who depend upon me for survival, being slain by the blue-skinned hypocrites out there, I begin to understand."

"What do you-" the alarm cut him off mid-sentence, the rising and falling shrieks piercing the twilight sky.

The _Oberst_ blew out a breath slowly, nodded, and held out his hand to Parker, "It was a pleasure meeting you, _Herr _Selfridge. With luck we may continue our talk in the _morgen_."

He blinked slowly, nodded, and shook his hand. Weigand pumped it once, turned, and strode rapidly from the room, heading for the waiting AMP suit outside.

The calm from his discussion with the _Oberst_ began to fade as he turned his eyes back to the glowing image before him.

_Why in the world did he want to talk about that right before the fight?_ He chewed it over in his head as he watched the small icons representing the remaining soldiers available to defend Tartarus racing into their positions.

The cold fear began to slither through him again, and he blinked a bit as he noticed its return.

_That's what he was doing. Distracting me from fear. _He felt a slight rush of gratitude towards the older man, and began to glance around the Ops-Center, looking for something he could help manage.

He had just reached the station where the dispatcher for the medic teams sat, to see how well the triage was stocked and set up, when the heavy forty-millimeter weapon on the roof opened fire, and the holotable showed a swarm of heat signatures moving in from every direction.

* * *

**Date**: 20:15, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Apartment Complex Trenchline, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Michael Jones felt a savage glee as he pulled the trigger, assault rifle pushing back against his shoulder, and watched a native fall screaming to the ground as it attempted to raise its bow.

Learning to hate the people you fought against came naturally with war. After all, if the enemy had just left them alone or not done whatever it was they had done to piss your country off, there would not be a reason for you to be risking your life, would there?

But like everything else, it was different on Pandora. He had not learned to hate the natives, as he had expected to. He had learned to _loathe_ them. The peculiar kind of battlefield respect that could so often creep into existence between human foes was totally lacking on this god-forsaken moon, leaving only rage him, watching people die from bullet wounds and explosions was one thing. It was brutal, and often messy, but it was expected. Watching people die from being impaled by massive arrows, left to scream and twitch from the poison, watching them be _eaten_ by massive beasts, that… that was something else entirely.

He did not care if he survived the night. All he cared about was killing the enemy that had so brutally slain his friends.

From the grim wolf howls his men and women began to let out as the battle renewed, they felt the same.

Most of their heavier weapons were gone now, lost with the bunkers and unfinished buildings that held them. Only the roof mounted turrets on the Ops-Center and Apartment Complex remained. Fortunately, most of the native fauna already lay slain. More unfortunately, the blue-skins were not being utterly moronic in their tactics anymore. Apparently getting slaughtered in their full frontal attacks had convinced them to listen to someone with brains, probably that bastard Sully, and now they were trying to act more intelligently, using the burnt corpses of half-finished buildings as cover as they approached.

Few beasts were left to support them. The super-fauna had drawn heavy weapons fire every time they approached, and as far as he could see, none were participating in the renewed struggle. The smaller beasts had been largely wiped out in the brutal morning battle, and what few were left weren't smart enough to try and follow the blue-skins' approach, instead choosing to rush straight towards them and be obligingly slaughtered.

A pair of natives bolted across his vision, firing their bows as they ran. Squeezing the trigger gently, he felt that hot glee again as he watched both tumble to the ground. His fourth kill was female, something that did not matter to him at all, blowing her brains out as she wound up to through a fire-bomb.

Slamming a new clip into his rifle, he never let his eyes stop moving, scanning the battleground.

His eyes jerked skywards when he heard a shout from his left, "Enemies above!"

What had to be every last Banshee rider their enemy had left was airborne, a massive Leo in the lead, diving from the clouds straight towards them.

_Son of a bitch! There must be a thousand of them!_

He frantically finished reloading and took aim as the forty-mil on the building behind him began to boom, anti-air rounds exploding amongst the swarm, and everyone who didn't have a ground target in their sights aimed up and let go with everything they had.

The Ops-Center and the AMP suits around it must have realized the peril facing their southern brethren, as they shifted their aim from their own problems to hurling death towards the still diving blue-skins.

Arrows hurled down like rain, fire-bombs following, as the natives returned the fire with interest. Human screams quickly became interspersed with the eerie shrieks of dying banshees and wounded natives.

None of that mattered; his entire focus was on the sights of his weapon, lining them up with the massive beast leading the assault, and the rider on its back.

He opened fire as soon as he lined up the shot, and promptly swore as the beast frantically tried to level out from its dive, his rounds tearing into its chest rather than the leader of their enemies.

The bullets from his rifle were not the only ones hitting the beast. It was huge, terrifying, and drew fire like a magnet. It roared in agony as its life blood poured from its body, struggling to remain in the air on torn wings, before slamming into the ground, the traitor guiding it tumbling off the dying beast's back and onto the ground.

Snarling as the thrashing creature's bulk obscured his target, he swore more violently when his eyes turned to the ground. Using the aerial attack as a distraction, the ground-pounding blue-skins were trying to rush them again.

"Ignore the banshees, kill the warriors!" he shouted the order, suiting actions to words as he began to fire careful bursts of fire down range once more.

The banshees did not linger long, making one or two passes apiece before winging away from the base, circling for altitude in preparation for another mass-strike.

_Someone with authority is still alive up there then_. He thought grumpily, though the reprieve from the aerial attack was not something to give away, especially with the natives rushing once more on the ground.

Screams and shouts began as first a few, then several, and then many natives made it to the trenches. The area just to the north, the thinly manned line between the darkened buildings, seemed to be the most overwhelmed.

His headset crackled, "All forces defending the airfield and communications lines fall back to the primary defensive positions!" Weigand's voice bellowed over the roar of an AMP suit cannon.

The roar of gunfire seemed to increase as the few soldiers in those trenches sprinted back towards the safety of the darkened buildings.

Many did not make it, arrows piercing them from behind as the blue-skins pursued. They were avenged, however, when they tried to follow the trenches into main concentration of humans. Jones had stationed his few remaining men armed with flamethrowers at the junctions, and the harsh glare of orange flames could be seen as natives started screaming.

But he could hear far more human screaming to his right.

"Mining Team C," he bellowed, the tiny troop of a dozen men were his only reserves, "Get your asses over there and shore up the line, now!"

The engineer leading the conscripted men acknowledged, and a few moments later the screams and shouts were joined by the sharp barks of pistols and shotguns as they frantically tried to restore the line.

Thankfully, the natives seemed to have given up on rushing his position, instead opting to resume their long range fight, arrows falling from the night sky as the battle slowly wound down to a skirmish once more.

Moving along the trench, he occasionally returned fire as he headed to inspect where the natives had breached his line.

It was not a pretty sight. Then again, what was on this hellhole?

Most of a platoon was down, including half the mining team he had sent in. Bodies, both blue-skin and human carpeted the ground. The reports beginning to filter in did not paint a good picture either. The short but brutal fight had cost him nearly a quarter of his remaining people, and his men were beginning to run low on ammunition.

"_Oberst_, this is Jones. Enemy repulsed with heavy losses, their tactics were improved but their timing sucked ass. Running low on ammunition and I am down to less than seventy-percent defectives. Request orders, over."

"Hold your position, the enemy still pressing hard to the north. If ammunition or numbers become critical withdraw into interior of complex." An explosion punctuated Weigand's statement.

Swearing, he turned north, seeing the blue skins swarming forwards, his men firing in short, ammunition conserving bursts as they tried to provide what support they could.

Before he could order more aid sent to the northern line, the renewed cry of "Enemies above!" sent his gaze and rifle sights to the sky, and the battle resumed.

* * *

**Date**: 20:39, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Ops-Center Trenchline, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

_Oberst_ Eric Weigand's face was set in stony concentration as he carefully fired at the charging enemy. With ammunition running low, it would not do to waste a single round, and it was important to set the example. One could not ask his men to fire carefully if he did not as well.

"_Drei, _shore up the left!" he barked, keeping an eye on the shifting battlefield even as he carefully executed any native that moved into his sight.

"_Jawhol Oberst._" the AMP directly to his left shifted its footing, twisted its torso, and resumed firing, a pair of natives falling amongst the gore of their torn bodies as 20mm rounds ripped their flesh apart.

Only five of the massive machines remained now, they drew fire-bombs like flames drew moths. The conscripted miners manning the trenches were not in much better shape. Ammunition was running low, and he had been forced to commit his only reserve platoon when the natives used what had to be their last dire-horses to rush his eastern line.

To compound matters, the original perimeter line was far closer to the Ops-Center than it was to the Apartment Complex, and that natives were using it for shelter as they fired their arrows. More had crept into the junkyard, launching strikes from there.

Ammunition was plentiful in the interior armories, but their personnel shortage had become so acute that he did not dare send men to get it while the battle raged. He had already drawn most of the interior staff into the positions, Selfridge was aiding the communications officer coordinate the frantically working medical teams, and beyond the two of them only the roof gunners and doctors remained inside the building.

The natives who had been attempting to breach the line began to fall back to the cover offered by the previous human defenses, arrow firing slackening, if not ceasing.

_They surge. Then retreat. Surge. Retreat. _He nodded to himself slightly. _Perhaps they are trying to draw us out of the trenches and into the open, but have no idea how to properly go about such a strategy. _Sully must be in the southern region, an ex-marine would not have allowed the repetitive tactics.

Studying the computer displays within his exoskeleton furiously, he nodded as he established a new plan. He had to solve the ammunition problem as well as get them some time to catch their breath, as well as to allow the natives to realize just how many of their dead now carpeted the grounds of Tartarus.

"All forces, we will hold against the enemy's next rush. As soon as they slacken once more, the AMP teams will make for the southern defenses, the infantry will withdraw inside. The 3rd platoon will use the tunnel to reinforce the south; the remainder will continue to defend the Ops-Center."

A chorus of affirmatives answered his orders, and he nodded as the thermals showed the natives beginning to rush forwards once more.

Carefully aiming the massive weapon, the computer guided sights settled on the head of a native woman before the gun roared, blood and brains exploding as she died instantly.

* * *

**Date**: 2101, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Ops-Center, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker watched, sweating, as the engineers and miners sprinted indoors even as the five remaining AMPs pounded south. The natives, startled by the sudden change, hesitated a few critical moments before trying to sprint forwards and catch their prey.

He watched anxiously as the outer airlock was slammed shut by the last engineer in, native arrows rebounding off the metal moments later.

He breathed a sigh of relief, only to nearly jump out of his skin as more pounding arrows ricocheted off the exterior windows. Gulping, he raced over and slammed down the button that dropped the armored shutters over them.

The communications officer had drawn her sidearm and was staring at the glass and metal, "That probably won't stop them for long. Banshees will probably tear right through it."

Nodding shakily, he agreed, "Long enough for people to get up here. It's the only point where they can probably get in, right?'

It was her turn to nod, "You should probably get out of her sir, unless you have a sidearm somewhere."

He laughed shakily, "Never took the fire-arms course. I'll head over to the triage center; see if I can do anything to help."

The officer took cover behind one of the thicker consoles as several engineers raced into the room, nodded to her, and took up their own positions, watching the windows.

He was to the door heading out when she called him back, "Sir?"

Turning and blinking, he responded, "Yes?"

She looked utterly serious. "You should probably find a sidearm."

Parker stared at her for a moment, just as something much stronger than an arrow slammed into one of the armored sheets, denting it inwards.

Gulping, he again nodded shakily before running for the underground tunnel. More men and women raced paced him into the control room, others began to set up barricades made out of tables and seats along the thin hallways, the more experienced soldiers instructing his miners to remain and man them before moving on.

Making a short stop at the armory, he grabbed one of the very few pistols still remaining, awkwardly attached the holster to his belt, and resumed his trek to the Apartment Complex.

Muted gunfire started up behind him, and he ran faster. Changing his destination, instead of rushing into the cafeteria turned triage facility; he instead let his pounding feet carry him to the staircases, bolting up them as rapidly as his out of shape body allowed.

Arriving, panting, in the lounge near the roof of the complex, he stared out the expansive windows into a portrait of hell.

Fires were raging everywhere, tracer rounds streaming out from the trenches at the base of the complex, but that was not anything new, or even noteworthy at this point.

What was truly stunning were the bodies. They were everywhere. Viper-wolves, dire-horses, fallen banshees, all manner of beasts carpeted the soil and tarmac. And the natives… their corpses were _everywhere_. He could not even begin to count them.

_How the _hell_ are they attacking us across that! I mean, how the hell do they stomach it!?_

The native's 'charge' was more of a loping jog, as sprinting invited tripping over something, someone, or a part of something. However slow it was, dozens had reached the trenches, he could see that much of the firing was taking place within them, rather than being aimed outwards.

The fire began to slacken below even as he watched, and he furiously re-activated his headset, forgetting that he had even turned it off.

"-critical! Withdraw inside immediately, we'll cover you!" Jone's voice barked.

"AMP suits cover the airlock!" Weigand sounded off a second later.

Only three of the metal walkers remained now, they and a scant dozen engineers fighting furiously as the miners sprinted inside.

He watched helplessly as the natives rushed the tiny group with everything they had left, trying to stop the humans from reaching the relative safety of the building.

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**Date**: 21:17, May 27th, 2170

**Location**: Apartment Complex Trenchline, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

His ammunition counter was flashing a warning red, the readout informing him that he had only two-dozen rounds left. One of the others had already run out, the pilot using its bulk to shelter the retreating men as best she could, the leering demon's face of her AMP horribly scratched from claws and arrow strikes.

The last miner streaked inside, leaving only eleven engineers and three AMP suits to stand against the savage horde.

"Sir!" It was Jones, shouting even as he fired his weapon from a firing step a meter away, "Get out of that suit! We'll cover you!"

He smiled softly, glancing at the thermal screen. Getting into an out of the AMP was not a quick process, the additional cockpit armor complicating matters immensely compared to the older Mitsubishi models. Truthfully it had been an oversight on his part, something he should have noticed during their training period.

He and his two remaining people were not going to be making it inside.

"Negative. Get inside Jones, we'll cover you." he spoke even as he sent a precious round into a diving banshee.

The AMP to his right stepped up and out of its firing pit, a laughing dragon covering its torso as it carefully picked off several natives trying to flank them.

"We're not leaving you sir!"

"Get inside," he turned his metal body so that he could glower at the man below him, "That's an order. We're not getting out of these suits and you know it, stop wasting time and ammunition!"

The American appeared to wrestle with something in his mind for a moment.

"God dammit! Engineers! Fall back, on the double!"

The younger man came to attention, saluted him, and then sprinted inside with his people, the door slamming shut.

The other two AMP pilots did not say a word. Nothing needed to be said. The woman in _Vier_ to his left simply threw her useless weapon into a native before bellowing a war-cry and charging forwards. _Acht_, to his left, burst into laughter and raced after her, expending his last ammunition as he did so.

Still smiling softly, he moved forwards, accelerating after them, and firing as he went.

_Acht_ had already run out of ammunition by the time he cleared the trench-line, the pilot slamming a leaping savage away from him. _Vier_ was struggling to clear a native off her back as it tried to find a way to break into the machine.

His last round tore the creature off, sending its broken carcass to the ground. Tossing the weapon aside, he kept his forward momentum going, simply barreling over another native and crushing another with one of his fists.

He did not know how long the brutal brawl went on. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time seemed to dilate as the three _Deutsche Krieger_ fought for their lives.

_Acht_ died first. A fire-bomb slammed into the rear of his suit, the fuel line detonating almost instantly.

_Vier_ fought more fiercely at his death, screaming her warcry again as she thrashed and fought. They fought, back-to-back at times, apart at others, for a longer time.

She died when a diving banshee rider was able to hit the thin vision slit with an arrow, ending her final scream of defiance.

Then he was alone. At least one of the heavy guns mounted on both buildings was still firing, struggling to hit the remaining swirling riders above, doing what it could to help him fight on for a few moments longer.

A native leaped onto his machines back shortly after he crushed a wounded dire-horse and its rider beneath a mechanical foot.

Snarling, he thrashed his arms backwards, knocking it off and spinning to face it.

It was a female, striking like many of them were, yellow and white paint decorating her face as she hissed at him.

He said nothing, letting the grinning skull decorating his cockpit do the talking, and lunged for her. The female hurled herself to the ground, rolled, and came up with a broken piece of _Acht's_ weapon, desperately using it to parry aside the left-handed punch he threw next.

She was unprepared, however, for the strength of the punch, the blow knocking her off balance. She had no time to parry again or try to avoid his right fist before it slammed into her lithe body, hurling her up and away from him, her limp body flying through the air to land a good fifteen meters away.

Turning to engage the enemies racing towards him from the left, he heard a bellow of rage unlike anything he had heard before, followed by the shattering of pottery and sudden warmth inside his suit.

_Einse._

He sprinted towards the oncoming natives, counting in his head, idly wondering how high he would get.

_Zwei._

They skidded to halts, knowing what was coming, trying to turn around.

_Drei._

He was almost there, almost amongst them now.

_Vier._

He could see their terrified faces as a demon from their worst nightmares bore down upon them.

_Funf_.

There was a flash of light, a roar of noise, and for the briefest moment, he thought he could see something, a woman's shape, and the smell of mead drifted through his nose before the curtain of darkness fell.

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**Please Review!**


	39. Chapter 35: Ragnarok

Yep. Still don't own it. You know what I mean. If you don't, see the previous 30+ chapters of disclaimers.

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**Chapter 35: Ragnarok**

**Transmission of Logs: **_**Explorer's Dream **_**to ICA Control, Terra**

**Departed**: Fleet departed 07/02/2163 under _Oberst_ Weigand, 753 souls embarked for colonial duty

**Arrived**: 03/03/2170 Pandora

**Current Date**: 09/28/2170

**Mission Status**: Critical

**Senior Staff Report**: _Oberst_ Eric Weigand: KIA, _Hauptmann_ Johannes Adler: KIA

Captain Maria Thomes assuming command under emergency protocol.

92 survivors encircled at Site 01: CO _Kapitán _Nikolai Kozlov

153 survivors encircled within Tartarus: CO Captain Michael Jones

**Current Objective**: Attempt to remove wounded from complex and prepare for further native assault.

Success deemed unlikely.

Failure to send further messages by 09/30/2170 indicates Expedition Failure.

~ Captain Maria Thomes

* * *

**Date**: 00:10, May 28th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker stared numbly at the conference table in front of him, dimly aware of Michael Jones doing something similar several chairs down.

Everyone had known that the odds of winning the battle had been slim. Knowing those facts, and facing them, were two different things.

_Even after everything... part of me still thought that he'd manage to find some way to win the fight, stop it, something._

He had watched the insane charge of the three remaining exoskeletons with horror from his vantage point, unable to look away when the _Oberst_'s AMP had caught fire, the image of the machine sprinting into a cluster of natives before its fuel lines detonated would be one that haunted him.

"Didn't think I'd outlast him." he heard Michael murmur.

"I didn't think anyone would." he replied, just as quietly.

"Dammit. I should have _made_ him get out of that damn suit!" the other American snarled, "I should be dead, not him, he could handle this shit, find a way to get something done that would work out, all I can do is fucking kill them, make them pay for every room. That's all I fucking _want _to do, but I _know_ that's not what he would have done."

"Depends on what Maria says," Parker reminded him, "She's the new commanding officer now."

The other man cooled down slightly, "Yeah. But I mean, fuck. What the hell are we going to do Selfridge?"

Gunfire from above cut off anything he was about to say. It was not the first time, or the last he guessed, that the natives tried to force their way into the command center.

Both men glanced up at the roof, not saying a word, simply listening until it died down a few moments later.

"No screams at least." It was either make light of the situation or vomit again, and he would rather not look like a weakling in front of the veteran engineer.

"Ain't that somethin'." Jones reached out, seemingly reassuring himself that his rifle was still the table next to him.

They sat in a strained silence for a while more, awaiting the call they knew was coming. Thankfully for his nerves, she did not make them wait long.

"This is Captain Thomes, Selfrdige? Jones? Acknowledge."

"This is Jones, the Administrator is here as well. Have a plan?"

"Not much of one, I'm afraid." her tone was frank, "How many wounded are there, forty?"

He replied, "Thirty-seven, last time I was in triage."

"Very well. I know Weigand didn't want me to bring down our last shuttle, but we're out of options. I'm not leaving anyone wounded down there for this final showdown."

Jones laughed quietly, "And how do you propose we cover the landing? They'll swarm the instant you touch down."

She briskly outlined her plan.

"That's not a plan. That's ritual suicide." he shook his head violently, "No way it will _ever_ work."

"There's little chance that _any_ plan we come up with will work," she shot back, "And unless I'm much mistaken, is it not better to move quickly with a good plan than wait for a perfect one?"

"Patton?" Jones laughed, "From a Canadian? Why the hell not, and it's not like I can come up with something better anyways."

He shook his head, "I still think it's insane... but you may be right, we don't really have anything else do we?" Suddenly feeling very tired, he nodded, "Only place we can coordinate this from is the command center. I can handle that."

Jones blinked at him, "_You?_"

Parker shrugged back at him, "I don't want to die. I _really_ don't want to die. But if the option is curling up in a corner and waiting for the savages to tear my throat out, or at least trying to do _something _to help… I can't fight, but I can do the communications, free up a soldier to fight. Just make sure there's a solid guard up there, all right?"

Thomes laughed over the comms, "Let us get to work then. If the natives follow their usual routine, they'll attack you at dawn, we'll need to put our plan in motion first."

* * *

**Date**: 01:45, May 28th, 2170

**Location**: Outside _Tawtute_ Encampment, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Neytiri still had yet to wake up.

He had never realized just how fragile she looked until now. She had always been the strong one, the rough and tumble warrior, taunting him with cries of '_skxwang' _as they flitted amongst the trees on some adventure or another. Jake had been far more worried about having children than she, much to the clan's amusement.

But now, with dried blood coated across her back, her tail limp and unmoving, several of her strong bones obviously broken, and her breathing ragged... he was more terrified than he had ever been in his life.

The memory simply would not stop replaying itself in his mind. The AMP suits making their final, futile charge. The pilots desperately trying to take as many of the people with them as they could. Neytiri struggling to fight the sole survivor, seeing her body hurled through the air even as he raced to her aid.

He closed his eyes, shuddering, preying to _Eywa_ that that sight would not be how he remembered her.

The other _Olo'eyktan_ were nearby, trying desperately to engage him in talks of how to finish the battle. They all looked exhausted, dejected. Their eyes had lost their shine of life, their faces aged as they furtively glanced about at the carnage around them. Part of him knew that he should be helping, directing, preparing to make the final assault... but he just could not bring himself to _care_ anymore.

Despite all of his warnings, they had not been prepared. He had known they were not. He had also known that there was no chance that they were going to wait until they were. Patience had never truly been a strong suit of the Na'vi. The only thing he could do was get them to obey him as _Toruk'makto_ once more, get them to use strategy and tactics instead of blindly attacking.

It did not seem to matter now...it seemed like the battle itself was a distant memory, already fading. All that mattered to him was that his love lay wounded, dying before him, and all he could do was clutch her hand.

"_We must attack the sky people soon!_" one of the clan leaders hissed urgently from nearby, "_Our warriors are exhausted and saddened by the loss of so many! Their sacrifices in the name of Eywa must not go unsung! We must finish this!"_

"_But how?"_ an older female shot back, "_They have retreated within their stone and metal halls, my tribe has lost almost all of our warriors, and who knows what traps the demons have prepared?_"

They all glanced nervously at the two darkened structures, numerous warriors carefully moving around them, trying to find entrances beyond what their _ikran_ had managed to tear open.

"_The sky people are very cunning, it will cost the lives of many to root them from their very nest_." the wiser _Olo'ektan_ continued, waving at him, "_And Toruk'makto, the only one with the wisdom to guide us, has withdrawn into himself with grief_."

Several turned their stares to him once more, and he continued to ignore them. That did not matter anymore. _They_ did not matter anymore.

The aggressive clan leader from the northern plains snorted softly, "_Allow the warriors to rest. They are all weary. We shall press the sky people at dawn. We still have many of Jake'sully_'s 'fire-bombs' _remaining to us; let us see if the sky people can withstand flames within their halls_."

Jake'sully then. Not Toruk'makto. Not even _Olo'eyktan_ of the _Omaticaya. _The message, imparted form a simple name, was very clear. He was no long in command here, or even a member of the war council.

Very gently scooping up his mate, he winced as she whimpered softly. Carefully clutching her to his chest, he began to make his way deeper into the jungle, towards where many healers struggled against the rising tide of wounds. They could do little for her, but perhaps they could stall her pain for a time. Maybe he could find a _pa'li_ and a litter, so that she might rest beneath the branches of their _kelutral_.

The assembled _Olo'eyktan_ watched him depart in silence before leaving in turn to spread the word, rest for a while, and with Eywa's grace and guidance, they would end the threat of the sky people once and for all with the rising sun.

* * *

**Date**: 04:20, May 28th, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site Zero-One, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Nikolai Kozlov had no idea what the natives would make of his nation's anthem. They certainly did not speak Russian, so he had figured it would hold little meaning to them, beyond being noise. One of his lieutenants had come up with the idea after he had outlined Thomes' plan to his men, and everyone had laughed and figured, 'Why the hell not? We're dead anyway, might as well go out with style.'

They had all armed up with as much ammunition as everyone could carry, moved to the doors leading out, slammed them open, and charged to what they thought was certain death.

Needless to say, what actually happened left the situation feeling rather anti-climactic.

_To be honest, I really did not expect them to run away._ He thought, almost laughing, as he loped forwards along the road at the head of his people.

He was not sure if it was the singing that had caused it, or the fact that every human remaining within the bunker complex had surged outwards, firing as they came. Maybe both? Either way, most of the natives in sight had simply bolted at the sight of their charge, the few that tried to stand and fight, to rally their kin, were the first to die, picked off for their efforts.

The night was not yet turning to dawn, the twilight sky hanging over them as exopacks and ammunition banged against their bodies as they jogged as fast as they could without overly tiring themselves, heading towards the burning pyres marking Tartarus.

An arrow whistled by his head, and all of his soldiers threw themselves to the ground, the miners following suit more slowly behind them.

_There!_ Movement flickered in a tree, betraying the camouflaged native.

He swung his rifle into line and fired a three round burst, watching the shape crumple and fall.

More arrows began to rain down; he could see numerous savages rushing down the road far ahead before bolting into the trees.

_Two can play that game._

"Everyone left side, left side! Off the road! Take cover, but continue the advance!"

He suited action to word, leaping up and scrambling over the largely torn-down scrap barrier.

His people rushing behind him, they darted into the brush, turned north east once more, and began to move. The miners, most of whom spoke no Russian, once again lagged slightly behind before catching on and racing to catch up.

"Whatever happens do not stop advancing!" he bellowed, suiting actions to words.

A deadly game of fire and maneuver began, the more experienced soldiers bellowing orders to the miners. One fire team would open fire on the distant natives, dropping several, causing the rest to hurl themselves to the ground or dive behind trees, giving another group the time to sprint forwards, take cover, and open fire so the others could move up.

The natives, for all their recent combat experience, did not have centuries of warfare to teach them such tactics. They tried to hold their position, returning fire with their bows as best they could, but usually aiming at those firing at them, rather than at the more vulnerable moving fire-teams.

As they approached closer to the native lines, the burly lieutenant who had suggested singing broke out into song again, this time singing the naval hymn. All of the soldiers joined in, the miners laughing with a tinge of hysteria as they did their best to mimic the unfamiliar tune.

Skidding to halt after his team finished a maneuver phase, he realized just how close they had gotten to the natives. More of the blue-skins were rushing south, no doubt from Tartarus. A dire-horse rider or banshee must have raced back with word that the humans had gone insane and were attacking.

_A little insanity can be a good thing._ He chuckled, before screaming loud enough to tear his throat, "All squads, CHARGE!"

Singing at the top of their lungs once more, the humans broke into sprints, firing wildly as they raced towards the enemy.

Human soldiers often reached a 'breaking point' during severe battles, where their spirit simply could take more death and destruction, where the terror and panic of a single soldier could induce an entire army to flee. Evidently the Na'vi had a similar psychological breaking point, and after several days of battle unlike anything they had ever experienced, of watching entire clans destroyed, of listening to the screams of Na'vi and human alike, simply seeing the humans charging them, singing madly, firing their weapons with reckless abandon... it was too much for their spirits to take.

One turned tail, literally, and bolted north. Then another. Then two. Then ten. Like a wall breaking apart under the strain of a flood, it happened slowly at first… bits and pieces dashing away, before the sudden burst, as the rout carried along their lines.

"Pursue! Pursue north!" he shouted, ignoring the pain of exhaustion, firing a flare into the sky as he ran, signaling that they had reached the half-way point, well beyond ten times as far as anyone had actually expected them to reach.

Laughing with the sheer insanity of it all, his men gave chase to creatures twice their size through the jungle of a death world.

* * *

**Date**: 04:42, May 28th, 2170

**Location:** Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker felt his jaw drop as he saw the red flare streak into the sky to the south.

_What the hell!? How did Kozlov make it that far!?_

They had _planned_ on Kozlov reaching that point, of course. But no one had _expected_ it to happen. The plan was as much a glorified last stand as it was an actual attempt to remove the wounded to the safety of the _Explorer's Dream_.

Shaking himself, he slammed the buttons in the order the communications officer had told him to before she had raced down to the main airlock to await the signal.

Several things happened in rapid succession.

First, a small message stating Transmission Received appeared on the screen.

Second, _The Imperial March_ began to blast from the still functioning sound system. Maria had wanted something Germanic to honor Weigand and Adler, but Jones had overridden her, quipping "They think we're conquering, evil, murdering bastards. If we're gonna die, I want to live up to that reputation on the way out."

Third, gunfire roared to life as every human still mobile and capable of fighting sprinted out of the airlocks, firing wildly at the stunned natives, screaming war-cries as they went.

The wounded soldiers left to guard the control center had been set up next to the damaged, and in some cases, open windows, but on hearing the gunfire they punched the buttons raising the remaining shutters and fired their own weapons at whatever they could see.

Even in the predawn light, it was easy to see the confusion of the natives. Most appeared to have been resting, relaxing, with only a few actually guarding the buildings. No doubt saving up their strength for the final fight that they expected to start in a few hours, and now taken by total surprise by the insane rush.

Then something happened he did not expect.

A group of them tossed their bows aside, and bolted into the trees.

He was still trying to process that image when several more fired a few arrows, and then ran as well.

The gunfire increased, and he saw Jones waving his men onwards, charging towards the largest enemy concentration.

Many routed, fleeing as fast as their long legs could take them. Many did not, the heavy _twangs_ of their bows almost inaudible amidst the gunfire. Human and native alike dove for cover amongst rotting bodies and shattered equipment, arrows and bullets flinging through the air.

Though still massively outnumbering the humans attacking them, the blue-skins no longer rushed forwards, the deep, booming strings of the dark music and the unnatural courage of the still advancing humans seemed to have thrown them completely off.

Of course, he knew better than to expect that the advantage would last.

Several blue-skins, no doubt tribal leaders, began to rally their nearly panicking forces, and the fighting began to chance its tempo.

Sheer numbers soon began to tell, and Jones' charge began to falter as he reached the old Samson landing pad. Several men took up position in the bunker that once protected it, others leaping into the trench and surrounding fox-holes, providing what cover they could to those still stuck in the open.

Even from here he could hear the whooping of the natives as they began to advance, the familiarity of the situation seemingly reassuring them. Though still moving a bit more slowly, and cautiously, than they had in the prior stages of the battle, they began to force Jones' people back. Those humans who had not been quick enough to reach the trenches around the landing pad fell back into the closer network around the Ops-Center, providing what long-range cover they could to Jones those men who had reached the pad.

The natives looked as though they were preparing to rush the trenches when the Valkyrie roared in overhead, engines screaming as Maria Thomes personally guided the massive shuttle down over the again besieged forces.

Her shuttle had been around for several hours now, creeping slowly over the jungle and landing at the ruined fortress near the gravel mine to salvage what gear they could. It had, thankfully, been apparently abandoned by the natives after they had seized it, giving them time to work. They had then remained there, awaiting his signal to swoop in and provide what support they could before landing and evacuating the wounded.

Having arrived, and managing to thoroughly startle the attacking natives into temporary immobility, the Valkyire put her new gear to use. The rear landing ramp lowered, revealing a hastily mounted 40mm cannon that instantly started bellowing, high explosive rounds tearing into the blue-skins.

Their resolve wavered. One of them seemed to be bellowing something, orders perhaps. A round from the astronauts disintegrated his body, splattering what was left of him over his kin nearby.

The natives broke.

They gave no thought at all to cover, sprinting as fast as their long legs would take them away from the battlefield, what few banshees still survived began to take wing, flapping wildly away from the flying behemoth. Vaguely, he noticed a much larger knot of banshees rise from the trees in the distance, frantically streaming in every direction as quickly as their wings could take them.

Moments later, while he was still struggling to make sense of the bizarre situation, around a hundred blue skins burst into the area from near the road. They were almost on top of the engineers and miners, saw the shuttle, the further destruction, and tried to wheel away. Howling, Jones leaped from his foxhole and sprinted straight into them, his men and women letting go with their own war-cries and following their leader into the melee.

The natives were massive, strong, and fast. They were also tired, demoralized, and stunned. Many kept trying to flee even as others drew knives, struggling to defend themselves as humans leaped upon them, stabbing with combat knives, tripping them and bearing them down, firing at point-blank range.

Kozlov and his people emerged in the middle of the melee, took it in for a moment, and then resumed their own charge straight into the enemy's rear.

Ten minutes later, the Battle for Tartarus had ended.

* * *

**Date**: 0700, May 28th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The three surviving staff officers all sat limply at the base of the Ops-Center, staring at the carnage around them.

Everyone else was doing much the same, the few lucky survivors simply gaped at the destruction that they had not had time to fully take in as they fought for their lives.

Captain Michael Jones had died in his final charge, leaping onto a native tribe leader, tearing out her throat with his knife even as her blade drove into his chest. His body lay shrouded under a white cloth nearby, blood already soaking through it. They were long out of American flags, though Parker was sure that the Captain would not have minded.

_He died taking an enemy with him. Wherever the hell he is, I'm sure he's content._

A few men and women were trying to move the human dead into organized rows, almost all of them were from the shuttle's crew or from Kozlov's detail. Most of the surviving miners and engineers within Tartarus were too tired to do even that much. The medics were struggling to get everyone who was seriously wounded onto the landed Valkyrie to take them up to the _Dream_ for treatment by the doctors anxiously awaiting them.

It was not an ideal solution, to be sure. The period of zero-g before they made it to the artificial gravity of the crew sections could kill many of them, but they quite simply did not have a choice. Moving all of the medical equipment and gear to the surface simply was not possible, not with one Valkyrie and far too few people to load and unload them.

Nikolai Kozlov sighed and leaned his head back against the stone wall behind him. "Going to be hard to live here now, much less mine."

He snorted, "Mine? With how few of us are left? It's going to take years to get enough personnel here to get back up to speed, and we'll still be behind, because those are supposed to be reinforcements to what we already had, not replacements."

"No help for it. We'll make it, one way or another." Thomes shrugged, stretching her body in a way he would have found distracting were he not so tired. "I seriously doubt that the natives will mess with us for quite some time now."

A snort from the Russian, "How would they? There must be five thousand dead around us now, it will take decades, if not a century, for them to rebuild, assuming their tribes survive the losses of so many warriors and hunters."

"That reminds me," he twisted his neck around to glance at Thomes, "Talk to Patel at all? Let him know we won?"

"Won? Pyrrhic victory is the term, I think. But no, I haven't." she yawned massively, "Yet another thing to do. You two get your asses inside and find an air-locked room to pass out in. I'll start handling clean up."

Both men shook their heads, Kozlov gesturing for him to speak first, "We'll help."

"We will rest when the dead lay in peace," The Russian rumbled in agreement.

She glanced between them, and then nodded.

* * *

**Date**: 07:45, May 28th, 2170

**Location**: Tree of Souls, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Mo'at had been about to, once more, try to reason with her goddess when the radio chimed quietly.

They all turned to stare at it before Max rushed over to turn the speaker on, "Hello! Who's there?"

A bone-weary Thomes answered, "It's over. Natives retreated, routed at the end."

Everyone else sighed in relief, but he knew that that news was not good news. There had long since been no possibility of good news.

"How bad?" he asked quietly.

"Might be a hundred and fifty of us left. Weigand and two of our senior Captains are dead. Neither of Selfridge's mining foremen made it." she paused, "Native casualties… impossible to count at the moment. At least fifty-percent. Probably much higher, but I don't know if we'll ever get an accurate count."

Mo'at strode forwards at this, she did not know how the radio worked, but she knew that the other human could hear her, "Does _Toruk'makto_ yet live?"

"I presume you're the native they've got helping them? And I'm assuming you mean Jake Sully?" Thomes did not wait for an answer to either question, "We think so. His Leo got killed last night, but Parker thinks he got away. Haven't seen his body at least, so I guess that's something."

"And his mate? The _Omaticaya_?" the _tsahik_ pressed.

"Lady, I have no idea how to tell you apart. You want to know if they lived, head back to your tree." Her tired voice turned hard as she continued, "And tell your goddess, if she's real, that his is what happens when you fuck with the human race. We didn't want to fight you dammit, but the kid gloves are long off. You mess with us, we'll kill everything that _fucking_ tries. She sends packs of animals to _eat_ our people again, we'll raze that Tree. We'll raze _every_ tree like it on this planet. We will fucking _exterminate_ anything that _dares_ harm our people until every Na'vi child on this planet screams in fear at the _mention_ of the sky people."

The radio went silent.

Every stared at it.

"Well. That went well." John said with forced cheer.

"You think?" he snapped at him before turning to Katrina, "Get the Samson up and running. There's going to be a lot of wounded, we have to help as we can. Mo'at, could you please give Eywa the... message, then we'll go."

The elder matriarch continued to stare at the small radio box for a long moment before turning and heading back to the tree.

Max sat down heavily inside the Samson, and stared downwards, a stone dropping into his gut.

He had failed.

He left his head bowed for a while, soaking in that fact.

The knowledge was bitter.

He had never really failed at something before. Always had a plan. Always ready for any situation. Growing up had taught him that, to always be prepared, to never settle for anything but the best. Even when something went wrong, he fell back on a new idea. Always managing to keep things on the up and up. But now... thousands of sentient beings were dead, and it was because he had failed.

The analytical portion of him began to protest his logic.

_You did everything humanly possible to stop the fight. You convinced Mo'at, got her to the Tree, used every argument you could think of. Only Eywa could have stopped the attack, and she refused to listen to reason. It's not your fault_.

But it still was. If he had _seen_ what was coming. If he had talked to Mo'at years ago, to Neytiri, to Jake, tried to convince them to try for peace when the humans inevitably returned.

He and the others had been too occupied just trying to survive to worry about is as much as he could. Too worried about living to the next day to consider the far off future.

_And that's no excuse for letting thousands die_.

The turbines began to spin, Norm and John climbing in carefully, avoiding looking at each other or him.

Mo'at slowly returned to the Samson, she looked far older than she had mere minutes before.

_The knowledge that every warrior, including your daughter, in your tribe may be dead can do that to someone_, he thought bitterly.

"Max." it was Norm.

"What?" it came out gruffer than he intended.

A long pause. "It wasn't your fault man."

He did not bother to answer. This time, the entire flight passed in silence as they raced south, out of the floating mountains, towards the _kelutral_ to see if their friends yet lived.

* * *

**Next up is Interlude: The Chosen**

And the battle has ended, though in a way I hope wasn't quite expected. Hope everyone enjoyed the story's epic battle, we'll be heading into the aftermath now in Act V: Resolutions, also, expect a lot more focus to shift to Max now that the fighting has died off.

Glad to see the reviews still coming in, hope everyone is enjoying it. There's still Resolutions to go though, and then an Act VI after it before the story is complete, so don't go anywhere.

**Review!**

**Please keep reviewing, it's awesome beyond words to turn my computer on and see 5 or 6 new reviews waiting for me.**


	40. Interlude IV: The Chosen

Avatar is not mine. Nor am I making money off of this, as much as I wish I could.

**End Act IV Interlude: The Chosen**

**Sent**: May 29th, 2170

**To**: UNG, Terra

**From**: UNEF, Pandora

Battle ended, Tartarus successfully defend.

Pyrrhic victory.

Human Casualties: 534 KIA, 49 WIA: 77% casualty rate

Native Casualties: Estimated 4-5,000 Na'vi KIA, unknown wounded

169 Humans capable of bearing arms alive, primarily 3rd company and civilians

Mining halted until reinforcements, sufficient amount harvested for first ISV.

Native threat believed ended for foreseeable future.

**Sent**: May 30th, 2170

**To**: UNEF, Pandora

**From**: UNG, Terra

Gratifying news.

Authorized to repair damage and entrench until reinforcements arrive.

Keep forces intact at all costs.

Maria Thomes given full blessing of UN Security Council.

**Sent**: May 31st, 2170

**To**: UNG, Terra

**From**: UNEF, Pandora

Confirmed keep forces intact, repairing damage to primary base.

Attempting to resume negotiations via former Avatar team to ensure no further native assaults.

**Date**: 15:20, May 31st, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

It had taken them the better part of two days to find all of the human bodies and lay them out on the old landing pad, next to the pad, and even under the structure as they simply ran out of room. They had not had enough flags to properly cover the dead, no one had believed that there would be so many dead. At least, no one thought there would be so many dead, and that there would be anyone left alive to lay them to rest. White sheets had been pressed into use instead.

Some of the bodies.. there was not much left. They found everyone they could, identified who they could, and then stared grimly at the field of native corpses around them.

Maria Thomes sighed as she watched one of the dozers slowly pushing a pile of native bodies away. There were simply far too many to even attempt it any other manner, and she had no idea whatsoever about what they were going to do with them all. The humans would be cremated, of course, but currently the only thing they could think of for the blue-skins was a mass-grave just outside the base.

"The savages probably won't like that much." Selfridge spoke, after she said her thoughts aloud.

"Good for them." she muttered. "What they like or don't like isn't terribly high on my priority list right now."

He raised an eyebrow, "And what are you going to tell Patel then?"

"Same thing I told him last time," she shrugged, "Long as the natives leave us alone, we're fine. They mess with us again, we'll kill everything."

A quiet sigh, "I was hoping for something less... bloodthirsty."

Turning, and intending to glare at him, she paused instead, thinking it over. Parker Selfridge had never been the bravest man in the world, or a fan of violence, but he was more than a little cunning, and she had taken to relying on his opinions in the last two days.

"What do you mean? You actually want to _talk_ with them? After this?" she gestured around, her meaning obvious.

"Yes and no." he replied smoothly, "I don't want to talk with the monkeys anymore than you do, but we have to do something to make sure they don't get it in their primitive heads that attacking us again is a good idea."

She chewed that over for a while. She really, really, _really_ did not want to talk to them. She had not been a fan of the blue-skins to begin with. Having to listen to the increasingly desperate and agonized comm-chatter from orbit, and then heading down and _seeing _what was left at Site 01 had made sure that she would hate the natives for a very, very long time.

On the other hand, Parker had a point. With so few of them left, if the natives regrouped and tried again, they would have zero chance of surviving. Surviving was more important than their hatred.

At least, for now.

"What do you have in mind? What do we have that they want?" she asked finally.

"Medicine." he replied, "Patel will probably start screaming for it as soon as you turn on the comms."

"We barely have enough for ourselves, much less for thousands of them!" she retorted.

He held up a hand, "We don't need to give out thousands, just a bit in the right spot. Sully still seems to be the big chief around here, and Patel will probably be heading right for their new tree to help out as he can. We help them a bit, not much, just a bit, make them indebted to us."

This was going somewhere. "So we can hold it over them if they get angry again?"

"Exactly. As soon as they start bitching that we're doing something they don't like, all we have to do is say 'Hey! Who _helped_ you right after _you_ tried to murder _us_?'."

"The men won't like it." she predicted, staring hard at the landing pad.

The Administrator chewed on his lip, "No." he said finally, "They won't like it much. We'll have to pitch it to them just like this, make sure they _know_ that we're not doing it because we actually care about the natives, but that we're doing it to make sure all of us stay alive."

She smiled slightly as an idea came to her, "I'll call a full meeting tonight, go over with everyone. We'll have Patel fly his Samson out here, load it up, and then you can go conduct the 'negotiations'."

"That's a goo... wait?" he paled very suddenly, "Me? Go? Out _there?_"

She gave him a sunny smile before turning to head back into the Ops-Center, talking over her shoulder as she did so, "Did you forget, Administrator? Weigand placed _you_ in charge of diplomacy in the event of his death."

She could feel daggers being driven into her back as she opened the airlock.

It made her grin that much larger.

**Next up is Chapter 36: Falling Darkness**

And here's a short interlude, not of Terra, I know, you'll find out what's going on there at the end of the fic. Wanted to get in a Thomes shot before the next Act begins, since we'll be focusing primarily on Patel and Selfridge once more. This formally ends Act IV: Heaven's Divide, and you'll get the start of Act V: Resolutions, tomorrow. Hope you enjoy the short bit.

**Please keep reviewing!**


	41. Chapter 36: Falling Darkness

I don't own Avatar, though I believe that most of us apes are smart enough to realize that.

* * *

**Chapter 36: Falling Darkness**

**Date**: 09:45, June 1st, 2170

**Location**: _Omaticaya Kelutral_, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The intense quiet was unnatural in the place of life. No _ikran_ roared and played overhead. The _pali_ were missing. The children clutched silently to their parents, who themselves were weeping as they stared at the few who had returned. So few...the _Omaticaya_ would be lucky to survive as a clan without merging with another to boost their numbers. So many lay dead now, slain in the massive battle.

Max was working frantically to stop anymore from joining their kin in Eywa's embrace. He was not an expert surgeon or doctor, but he knew enough to be able to help, and so he had immediately gone to work.

They had managed to patch up many of the wounded warriors, Norm, John, and himself all rushing about, directing the aid, working with the healers.

But many...too many, were simply beyond help.

He started down, heart like a lead weight, as he watched Mo'at slowly close Miguel's eyes. John bowed his head, openly crying, face twisted in pain at the loss of his best friend.

None of the Avatars who had gone had made it back. Before he had lost consciousness for the last time, Miguel revealed that Dana had been one of those brave souls to board the converted Valkyrie, and had perished aboard her when the shuttle slammed into the ground.

Stepping back, staggering slightly, he turned to view the last remaining grievous case. Neytiri still lay unmoving, Jake clutching desperately at her hand, Tsu'tey standing unmoving, stunned behind him. Both were beyond tears, praying quietly, with a fervent tone much unlike themselves.

Sometimes he hated being a scientist, a doctor. Hated knowing when prayer was useless.

He shuffled his way over, only now realizing how tired he was.

"Jake... she's not going to wake up." he spoke quietly.

The _Olo'eyktan_ and Avatar bowed his head further, not saying a thing.

Within his mind, he reviewed her injuries, _Seven broken ribs. Broken pelvis. Broken collarbone. Significant internal damage to her organs. Severe lacerations on her back from skidding across the asphalt when she landed. She'll probably never have control of her tail again, assuming she ever wakes up. Hell, it was a miracle she survived the trip back here._

He remembered breaking the news to Jake first, watching all hope drain from his friend's face. Remembered seeing him conferring very quietly with Mo'at, then the pair of them speaking with Tsu'tey. The proud young warrior losing his false age, begging his father and grandmother to say that it was not true, that his mother would be fine.

Norm staggered slowly over to him, joining his quiet staring at the scene before them.

"Katrina says we have a call." he said after a moment, "Captain Thomes."

He blinked blearily, "What's she want? It's all over, isn't it?"

The lankier man shrugged, "Pretty sure it is. Maybe she wants to gloat."

"Didn't think she was _that_ much of a bitch."

Norm sniggered slightly, and the two made their way over to the Samson.

The Na'vi were giving it a wide berth, shooting it uneasy glances as they moved around it, but had stifled any complaints after watching them struggle to save the lives of their warriors.

Their friend was already waiting, cockpit door open, her hand flicking the microphones on as soon as they approached.

"All right Captain, he's here." she spoke quietly. She had no real medical training, her original specialty being Pandoran geology, but she had made several runs back to their camp for what medical supplies they still had, and so she was as short on sleep as any of them.

"I don't know how to say this, except to get straight to the point," the other woman's voice was uncomfortable, "but do you need any help?"

The three of them stared blankly at each other for a moment.

Or more than a moment, for Thomes spoke up again some time later, "Are you still there?"

"Yes... Yes, we're here. And what?" Max managed to get out.

A sigh. "To put it bluntly, we don't really have any resources to spare. At all. But we're willing to give what we can to the Omat-whatever in the interest of.. shoring up relations after the recent... unpleasantness."

"What's the catch?" Norm demanded.

"No catch." the reply came easily. Much too easily.

"Liar." Max shot back, enunciating each word sharply,"What. Is. The. Catch?"

Another sigh, a deeper one. "Remembrance. We're willing to help them despite the fact that they just attacked us, and despite the fact that we need those supplies badly for our own wounded."

A flash of anger shot through him, "You're bribing them, with the lives of their own wounded!"

Her voice turned angry in turn, "Would you rather we _not_ help? We don't like them. They don't like us. But we _did_ have orders to be friendly, those orders still stand, and we're going to follow those orders even now. Do you want they help or can I get back to saving _human_ lives?"

"Fine." he snapped, "We'll take it, we need it, even if it's from a supremacist."

Her voice extremely frosty now, Thomes managed to grind out, "Your Samson. 1330 hours, today. No Avatars, no natives. We'll have medicinal supplies for you, and you will also be bringing a negotiator and his bodyguard with. They will speak to Sully or whoever is in charge about what happened, and what's _going_ to happen. That's the deal. You show up late, it's off."

The radio clicked.

"What was that about?" a voice spoke from directly behind him, and all three humans jumped, spinning around to see Mo'at standing behind them.

He sighed, "The humans have offered some of their medicine to help treat the wounded. They also say they're sending a negotiator over to talk to whoever is in charge here."

Brilliant gold eyes narrowed, "Why would they aid us?" she hissed, "After the destruction they wrought?"

"Orders." he shrugged, "Thomes definitely hates you, us. Trust me, working with their old leader was much easier. But the leaders back on our planet told her, like they told him, to be friendly, so she is, as much as she doesn't want to."

Ears flicked back in confusion, she shook her head, "_Tawtute_. Why accept her aid then, what if she lies?"

Norm shook his head, sighing, "As much as I hate to admit it, we could use the aid. A lot of the injuries we patched up are bad, and many of the wounded could still die. Human, _tawtute_, medicine could help."

The _Tsahik_ seemed to process this, "Could they help my daughter? Could their.. science.. save Neytiri?"

They glanced at each other. "Maybe. Her injuries are severe, even by their... our... standards. They also said they were sending wounded up to their.. home among the stars."

"Could they save her there?" desperation had entered her voice, and all three humans winced, glancing at the still form and the man clutching desperately to it.

"Maybe." Katrina said finally, "But they won't want to. It'll be a very hard sell, and there will be many wounded warriors there, none of whom would be glad to see a Na'vi being healed."

"But their _doktors_, they would heal her, if we could bring her there?"

Max nodded slowly, "Probably. Human healers swear an oath to harm no living thing, I'm pretty sure they would try to, at least. But Mo'at," he shook his head, regarding her seriously, "Traveling there would be very dangerous for her. She might not survive the trip, much less be able to be healed there."

The elderly matron bowed her head, "Eywa has done all that she can, and any warrior so grievously injured should be sent to her loving embrace... but I am not yet prepared to watch my last child die. Perhaps the selfishness of the _tawtute_ has infected me," tears began to spill once more, "But I do not want to watch her breath her last. Promise the _tawtute_ whatever you wish, but please.. ask them to save Neytiri."

"We'll do what we can Mo'at," Max touched the back of her hand lightly, "I swear."

_I failed to stop the war. To stop all this insanity. But by God, by Eywa, by whatever deity watches over us all, I _will_ do this._

"Katrina.. spin her up, we're on a timetable."

* * *

**Date**: 13:25, June 1st, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker held up a hand as the battered Samson roared in, grimacing at the beating wind. Kozlov stood next to him, with a mound of boxes containing basic medical supplies situated behind them.

He sighed, reaching down to straighten his shirt. He knew he was fidgeting, but it was hard to stop the impulse.

_Goddammit. I did not want to do this._ Remembering her smirk after Thomes had informed him of what he was doing, his mood soured further, _Bitch. She may _technically_ have a point, but she's _still _sore about Brunhilde and is still taking it out on me._

Patel and a woman he vaguely recognized were in the main cabin, Spellman was manning the single swivel mounted gun.

He waved a light greeting that was returned by a glare, "_You_ are the negotiator?" the taller man spat.

Ruthlessly crushing the irritation down at the scientist's tone, he nodded amicably, "That's right. As the leader of the civilians here, handling negotiations is part of my job description."

Patel, clambering out of the Samson, did not look thrilled to see him either.

"Dr. Patel," he greeted, gesturing to Kozlov, "This is _Kapit__ä__n_ Kozlov, in charge of our 3rd Company, _Kampfgruppe __Bär_, and will be my bodyguard during this.. expedition."

The scientist and doctor seemed to take that in before nodding, "Are those the supplies?"

Turning and nodding, he resumed, "Yes. We can spare a few more, but we're limited by our selection of what works on Na'vi biology."

A quick nod, "Let's get them loaded then. What time is your Valkyrie due back?"

He blinked at the rapid acquiescence and change in topic. _Why on earth does he want to know that? _Warnings from Thomes and Kozlov about telling them too much flashed through his mind. "That would fall under military information, something that you don't really need to know."

Patel grimaced, "We do need to know actually. The daughter of the _Tsahik_ of the _Omaticaya_ was badly wounded during the fighting, her injuries are far too severe for us to treat."

_I don't like where this is going_. "So.. you want _us_ to treat her? We're already stretching our 'niceness' quota for the year just with this, much less bringing some native chick up to the _Dream_ for treatment."

A wave of the others hand, "I know, and I wouldn't be asking if there was another way, but she's going to _die_ if you don't. Hell, she might die anyway. Parker," the shorter man stared levelly at him, "I know you all aren't doing this for pity's sake, or because you truly care about their lives at all. But please man. She's got a kid, a young one." a pleading tone entered his voice, "I'm not asking to send them all up for treatment, just her. They're willing to bend over backwards for you if you do, willing to grovel at your feet even."

That took him aback somewhat. His memory played a bad clip in his mind's eye, a burning tree, screaming natives fleeing into a jungle.

_Dammit. _He knew Patel was right. They were doing it because of the advantage, the leverage, it would give them. After that battle, none of the humans wanted anything to do with the natives that had been trying to exterminate them. Actively helping them had taken a lot of convincing on Thomes' and his parts, before the soldiers and miners had slowly agreed that it was the best course of action.

But from a negotiating standpoint.. if they were _that_ desperate to save the one woman's life.. _dammit._

"The medicine should help you keep her stable." he said finally, "I will negotiate with this za-heek of yours, and if _I_ think that it's worth it, in my opinion alone, I'll have the Captain bring the Valkyrie down right at their tree and we'll take her up."

Spellman hotly opened his mouth to say something, but Patel nudged him hard in the side.

"Fine. Let's go, faster we get there, the better."

Nodding, he gestured towards a waiting group of his miners, and they raced forwards to begin loading the chopper.

Within ten minutes, they were airborne, winging north.

The scientists had spoken to him as little as possible, gesturing for Kozlov and he to get in the rear seats of the cabin, Spellman remaining on the door-gun.

The flight had passed in silence for a half-hour before the pilot spoke, "So. Selfridge. Never figured you'd want to come back."

He grimaced, "That would be true."

She glanced back at him, "So why did you? And don't give us any crap about 'helping humanity', some of the UN guys might be here for that, but you sure as hell aren't."

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied easily, "My options were be hung out to dry with Quaritch, or agree to come back. What do yo think I picked?"

Patel perked up at that, "Is that how they explained it? Pinned it all on him?"

"As well as Augustine and Sully." he nodded, "The two of them with failing utterly to find a diplomatic solution, going native instead, and Quaritch with over-reacting to the situation."

The scientist seemed to process that, "That's a lie." he said finally, "But a believable one. Didn't our message get there?"

"It got there all right. Media whipped it into a good sized avalanche against the RDA and against the expedition. It had a couple of problems though. The various governments and other corps were already tearing into the RDA as best they could, so your main blame target was already getting punished. On top of that, you weren't there to argue your points, and the public has a short attention span." another shrug, "And it isn't strictly a lie, there's plenty of truth in there. You hippies failed utterly at your mission, which _was_ to find a diplomatic solution, and Quaritch _did_ overreact to an already bad situation."

Spellman's leaned back from his position on the gun, evidently he had been listening, "I can get that the RDA and UN could make that believable, but our message! We had everything in there that you bastards had done, all the atrocities, how could people just ignore that!"

Kozlov broke his silence, "Quite easily, Mr. Spellman. It is human nature to care more about human lives at home than they care about the lives of a few hundred natives six light years away."

The rest of the flight passed in a sullen silence, and nearly an hour after all talk had ceased, they arrived at the massive tree.

Numerous blue-skins were moving around, backing warily away as the Samson slowly settled into a landing. An Avatar, easily recognizable by his clothes, started shouting and several reluctantly advanced, picking up the crates containing bandages and medicines, and moving them towards the entrance of their village.

Gulping quietly, he slowly followed the scientists outside. He had never liked being around Avatars, having to crane his neck to look up at their faces, not to mention their intimidating size.

Although, at least the Avatars back at Hell's Gate had not looked like they were measuring him for a coffin. Chills ran down his back, and he felt himself breaking into a cold sweat.

The Russian emerged and stood next to him, glancing about, settling his hands easily onto his rifle.

The Avatar shouted again, and the natives slowly resumed unpacking the chopper.

Patel had walked over to an elderly looking woman, bedecked in beads and waring some kind of cloth over her chest. Noticing Parker's attention, he waved him over.

Steeling himself, he walked in what he hoped was a confident fashion, ignoring the continued glares of the locals, and nodded up at her when he arrived.

"I'm Parker Selfridge, civilian administrator of the Tartarus colony, here to negotiate with the leader of this tribe."

The matriarch considered him for a moment before replying in accented English, "I am Mo'at, the _Tsahik_ of this tribe. Our _Olo'eyktan_ is currently injured, and so I shall speak with you."

He blew out his breath and nodded, composing what he had to say in his head, "All right. Our goal is here is to mine unobtanium. We don't want to bother you any more than we have to, and our fondest wish is to be left alone while we work. We're willing to reclaim the areas once we're done mining, restore nature to them." he shook his head lightly, "But, to put it bluntly, that was before you decided that wasn't good enough and tried to massacre us. We're still willing to reclaim the lands, but we're not going to tolerate _any_ interference on your part about what we're doing."

The woman gazed at him for a long time before responding, "I cannot speak for all the people, nor for Eywa herself. Has Max'patel spoken to you of our one request?"

He glanced around. There were a lot of wounded, and many more that seemed to be dead. His eyes flicked over a still woman and a pair of men, one old and one young, kneeling beside her. He blinked.

_Sully? Ah_. He nodded mentally, _It makes more sense now. He married that princess or whatever of theirs, this must be her mother. Both tribe leaders want her healed, willing to accept whatever we want for it_.

"He did. Here is our terms: you leave us alone." he felt several of the blue-skins glares increase slightly, and he gulped again before resuming, "We're going to mine, and you're going to leave us be, regardless of how many trees we cut down. We'll avoid your hometree, and the trees of the other tribes, as to avoid more fighting, but we might end up nearby at times, and we don't want _any _hostilities, if there are any attacks, any at all, we'll strike down anything that came after us."

"Your.. leader of warriors has already made that quite clear." the woman, Mo'at, said slowly, a touch of anger coloring her voice.

"I'm sure she did." he felt his voice turn dry. _At least I'm not the only one on the receiving end_.

"But you will save my daughter?" Mo'at pressed.

He shrugged, "I can't guarantee she'll survive the trip up to the space station, or that we'll be able to. But we can try. Do you agree then?"

Another very long pause, "What of our old home, the one your kind destroyed so many years ago?"

"Eventually, we'll probably mine that area." he felt the anger rising around him, "_But_ we will of course, return any bodies we find to you for proper services, of course." he hastened to add, "We admit that what happened before was... a mistake, and will be willing to do that much for you."

A quick conversation broke out in the native's language. He had no idea what was being said, but it sounded hostile towards his well-being. Nikolai evidently agreed, and he stepped closer to him, casually resting a hand on his weapon's safety, ready to start firing if he had to.

The jabbering continued, with Patel or Spellman chiming in every so often, until a deeper voice shouted something.

Everyone shut up, and turned to see Sully walking slowly towards them. The former marine regarded him gravely.

"Selfrdige. Never thought I'd see you again."

"I've been getting that a lot." he quipped, trying to hold back his fear, and failing miserably.

The former Avatar stared at him for a long time, "You're a corporate tool, but you always did what you said you would. The mining teams always spoke highly of you, and you didn't seem happy about what happened to our former _kelutral_."

He guessed that meant the big damn tree Quaritch had torched.

"We agree." Renewed shouting broke out, ceasing only when Sully bellowed something and fixed everyone else with a glare before breaking into a short speech, gesturing at the wounded and dead around them.

Silence slowly settled, the blue-skins looking increasingly uncomfortable as he finished.

Nodding at their expressions, he turned to him again, "Save her. Please."

Guessing that that meant he was not about to be killed, he nodded and quite happily made his way back to the Samson to contact Thomes. She would most definitely not be happy about it, but this was the best chance they had of getting Sully and his tribe out of their hair permanently.

A short while after a brief, shouted argument that he knew he was going to pay for later, the natives began to shout and gesture as the Valkyrie roared down. The pilot carefully steering around the branches of the tree, settling down in the massive clearing around its base.

He had to shout for Sully to hear him over the engines, "You and and her mother can come, no one else! Going to have a hard enough time fitting her into the hospital module without a bunch of you up there!"

The Avatar nodded and shouted in turn to the tribe. Several medics ran down as the loading ramp descended, and he pointed them at the native they were to try and save. Muttering softly to each other, and responding to the glares from the natives in kind, they carefully extended out a Avatar-sized stretcher, and the four of them carefully secured the woman to it before heading back to the shuttle, Sully and Mo'at carefully supervising and moving with them.

He shouted to Patel next, "Need you to take Kozlov back to Tartarus, they have some more supplies for you. I'm heading to orbit with them."

The doctor waved to show that he had heard him, then turned, heading towards their Samson.

Turning towards his own ride, he raced up into the shuttle, not bothering to hide how ecstatic he was to get away from the blue-skins' home.

He settled himself into a seat, securing it as he watched the medics securing the stretcher under the gaze of the Avatar and the tza... tsa... elderly native woman.

An errant thought hit him them, the woman would never have been in zero gravity before. Smiling mentally, he leaned his head back against the bulkhead and listened to the engines shift in pitch as the shuttle began to move.

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 37: Opposites Repulse**

And here's the next chapter for you all. _Omaticaya_ are decimated, and willing to give the humans what they want in exchange for what aid they can offer, even though no one on either side truly likes the other.

Next up, we'll see if the doctors on the _dream_ can save neytiri, how mo'at likes being in space, and if selfridge can convince the humans on board that it's worth trying to save the life of a blue-skin.

Loving the reviews, as always, and extremely surprised yet glad to see the fic on the reccomendations page for Avatar fics on TvTropes, love the website, love that my work is there, so special thanks go out to khaos974 for doing that.

**Please, keep reviewing!**

**Review Responses**

Doomsought: I was under the impression that fusion still does produce radioactive tritium as a small by-product, which is still dangerous, just not for nearly as long of a period of time. Could be wrong, been a while since a researched it.

AndreyRus: was planning it since I used neytiri as a punching bag for weigand, but bonus points to you for guessing it ahead of time :).

Darth nylon544: was a chaos player back in the day, using slaanesh as my patron goddess, but the review still amuses me ;).

ParanoidSchizo: glad you liked the choice of music, both are in my writing-inspiration playlist, and played one-right after the other when I was working the chapter, figured they fit perfectly.


	42. Chapter 37: Opposites Repulse

Believe it or not, I still don't own Avatar.

* * *

**Chapter 37: Opposites Repulse**

**Date**: 15:45, June 1st, 2170

**Location**: Valkyrie _en route_ to _Explorer's Dream_, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Sully had been talking in low terms to the woman in Na'vi ever since they had lifted off, probably trying to prepare her for what was going to happen when they hit orbit. He did not really care, choosing instead to ignore them and relax. It was the first time that he had been able to since the battle had ended, what with dealing with the casualties, repairs, and dozens of other, more minor, things.

The shuttle-wide comm system clicked just after they entered super-cruise, the pilot announcing, "Administrator Selfridge, Captain Thomes on the line for you."

He sighed and unbuckled himself, squeezed passed the natives and the grouchy looking medics, and hauled himself up the ladder into the main crew compartment.

The copilot turned and gestured towards one of the open stations behind him, "Got her up for you there sir. Might want to be careful though, the Captain's in a foul mood."

"When _isn't_ she?" he retorted, and all three laughed quietly as he sat down and strapped in, "Time to orbit?"

The pilot examined his instruments before replying, "Ten minutes, then four hours to catch up to the _Dream_, and another hour to dock. Think that native chick will live that long?"

He shrugged his slight shoulders, "Not my problem." the pilots laughed quietly again. They certainly would not lose any sleep if she died.

Thomes' voice carried across the earpiece as soon as he donned the waiting headset, "Parker, Thomes. That native going to stay alive through zero-g?"

He twitched slightly. _I just answered that damn question_. "Don't know, don't care. If she does, your doctors can patch her up, and everything is all fine and dandy. She dies, we still lived up to our end, we tried."

A nearly masculine grunt answered that, "Fine by me. You'll have a lot of fast talking to do when you get up there though. A lot of the men won't be thrilled to see a native being treated."

The thought had occurred to him as well. The authority of command only went so far, especially given that the men who would be on the _Dream_ would largely be the wounded, those least likely to care at all about the survival of a blue-skin.

But at the same time, he was actually glad it was mostly the wounded, as it would be easier to keep them calmed down when they were already on drugs.

"I can handle it."

"You'd better," was the reply, "Tensions are already high enough without people trying to kill each other up there. And watch out for Sully," she added, "It'll be hard to stop the men from trying to taunt him, or someone from making a stupid comment, make sure he doesn't blow a gasket."

"Easier said then done." he muttered. The idea of keeping that idiot under control while his girlfriend was being operated on was not something that sounded pleasant.

"Yes it is," Thomes agreed, "But it's not something we can afford right now. Much as I loathe the natives, we're in no shape to fight."

"I know I know." he sighed, "I'll call you back when she's either dead or out of surgery."

"Will await your return then." she confirmed, and the line went dead.

Outside the sky had faded to the deep black of space, and he felt gravity slowly falling away. With another small sigh, he unbuckled the straps keeping him tied to the chair, straightened, and kicked off the deck.

Spinning slowly, he carefully pulled his way along the wall until he reached the ladder down, then casually propelled himself down.

Two of the medics were carefully going over the wounded woman, floating lightly next to her as they monitored her vitals and made sure that the numerous straps kept her firmly in place.

The mother was staring at them, wide eyed, clutching to the handholds next to her seat to keep herself in place. Her already wide eyes became almost comically large when she saw him position himself to 'stand' on the wall, looking down at them.

To be honest, it was a nauseating position for him to be in, but it was worth it to see the expression on her face.

"She still alive?" he greeted the medtechs.

They glanced at each other before one of them answered, "Vitals seem stable, though it's hard to tell. Her organs are already in bad shape though, and zero-g is definitely not doing her any good."

Sully spoke quietly, "She's going to make it."

The humans all glanced at each other. "She _might_ make it." the medic corrected.

"She _will_." the massive Avatar glared at the man, "No _mights _about it."

Shaking his head, he pulled himself down to his seat and strapped in again, before revealing what the pilot had told him, "Probably five hours until we dock. And _no_ Sully, we can't go any faster."

Sully had nodded quietly, but the elder native spoke up quietly, "Why not?"

"Physics." he replied, "The ship we're docking with is ahead of us, we have to catch up to it."

"Can it not slow down?"

_Why am I even answering her?_ He asked himself. _Because five hours of silence is extremely dull. _His mind replied.

_And now I'm talking to myself._ He decided to answer her before he could introspect, and thus creep himself out, any further, "No, it's in a fixed orbit above our base, and it's too fragile to move at any real speed."

She blinked at that, "Fragile?"

"It's very fragile." he nodded, "It's very difficult to build a ship that isn't, because even the tiniest grain of sand can do massive damage to our machines up here."

"Then why travel amongst the stars, if the danger is so great?"

It was his turn to blink.

"To conquer." Sully's dull voice responded, "To consume. They travel the stars because they have to in order to survive."

He glared at the man, "No. We would travel the stars anyway."

The matriarch glanced between the two of them, "It does seem that most of the _tawtute _live to consume and destroy, even as they try to heal." she said finally.

"Human nature." all four medics, Parker, and Sully had said it at the same time.

"Many a _tawtute_ have said that," she seemed to quietly wonder, "Max'patel in particular. Whatever you behold, you destroy, then repair, then destroy again."

Chewing on his lip for a bit, he thought it over. A memory struck him, of something that he had realized not that long ago. "That is true, partially. And I know why we travel the stars, I'll show it to you as soon as we get to the _Dream_."

Sully opened his mouth to say something, glanced at his girlfriend's comatose form, then seemed to think better of it.

_That's right big boy_, he thought with a smirk, _You're girlfriend's life is in our hands, don't piss us off._

The two natives settled into silence for the rest of the trip, which was quite fine with him, and he relaxed in his seat and waited for the docking alarm to sound.

* * *

**Date**: 16:20, June 1st, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The Russian, Kozlov, had headed inside upon their arrival, requesting that Max and Katrina stay with their Samson. Norm and John had remained behind to help the clan use the human medications.

Max had not had the time to really look at Tartarus when he had been there in the morning, now, without Selfridge glaring at him, and with most of the medical supplies already to the _Omaticaya_, he could fully see the destruction that the battle and wreaked upon the place. All of the buildings, both the few complete structures as well as the teetering remains of half-finished buildings had been blackened by fire. The skeletal corpses of AMP suits still lay where they had fallen, the warpaint giving them the appearance of mythical creatures slain and left as warnings.

And the smell... burned bodies, decomposing bodies, burnt fuel and electronics..it was horrendous.

They had already removed most of the Na'vi bodies, though he had no idea how or to where. He had a guess, judging from the long bloodstains heading towards the nearby jungle, but, as much as he hated to admit it, they did not really have any other way of dealing with that many dead.

The humans currently moving around the base all looked like they were suffering from extreme exhaustion, shuffling about as they began preparing funeral pyres, stacking fallen wood into massive piles, mostly by hand and although some were using the clear-cutting equipment.

"So, you're Doctor Patel huh?" the feminine voice caused him to turn towards the Ops Center. He had never actually seen Thomes in person before, but the exhausted looking blonde woman had to be her.

"Captain Thomes I presume." he nodded to her, glancing aside as several people who'd emerged from the airlock began to slowly load up the last round of supplies into their Samson.

"Indeed." her eyes traveled over him in his blood-stained clothes, the battered Samson, and Katrina relaxing in the pilot's seat. "Seems you've been through quite a bit in the last decade."

"More than that," he absently corrected, "And yes, we have, especially these last few days. There's a lot of wounded to take care of."

"Wouldn't be as many if they had just left us alone." she muttered darkly. "Would be far less of those needed as well." she added with a gesture towards the massive pyres.

Wincing slightly, he nodded, "Hopefully this will convince Eywa that it's in everyone's best interests to negotiate, find a way to cooperate."

She snorted, "'Eywa'. Bunch of natives worshiping a tree, and because that tree doesn't like us, they fall all over themselves to get in line for martyrdom."

"Eywa is more than a tree," irritation colored his reply, "She _is_ Pandora. Every tree is linked together to create her, to give her sentience."

"So...it's a world brain?" she arced an eyebrow, "And the natives do whatever it says? How...delightfully primitive."

He glared at her, "You really are a bigot, aren't you?"

A negligent shrug of her shoulders, "I'm a human. Is it a crime to care about the lives of my own species more than the lives of a bunch of creatures too stupid to even question their own beliefs? Take that traitor, Sully, for example. He _had_ to be smart enough to know that attacking us was going to be a massacre, even if they did win, but he just moronically went along with what a friggin' tree said instead of using his own judgment, his own mind."

He glared at her. _I hate it when people I dislike make points_.

"Oh really?" she smirked.

It took him a moment to realize he had just said his thought process out loud. He felt his cheeks coloring.

Opening his mouth, he tried to find something to reply with, before giving it up and muttering, "I need more sleep." and shuffling over to the Samson.

"Take care of your blue-skins!" Thomes called out after him, voice sickly sweet, "Let them know it was fun!"

Climbing into the copilot's seat as he heard the other humans laughing, he rested his head back and sighed.

Katrina chuckled lightly as he closed the hatch, "Glad to see humanity hasn't changed much in the last decade."

"It was a bit much to hope for." he admitted, shaking his head and strapping in, "Does make me wish Weigand had lived. He was just as pro-human as her, but at least he was polite about it."

His pilot and friend chuckled again, spinning up the engines as one of the men who had loaded the supplies tapped on the glass and gave her an OK sign with his hand.

"At least she's giving us some supplies, whether or not she actually cares." she pointed out as they slowly lifted off the ground.

He grunted, "Yeah, but she'd be much happier if there was no one left for us to treat. I think it was Selfridge's idea."

"Think she'll make problems for the clan?"

It took him a while to think over that. "No." he replied finally, "She seems smart enough, even if she is a bitch." Katrina sniggered a bit at that, and he realized that being around the irritating Captain was causing him to lose his own polite veneer, he hastily continued, "Beside, there aren't enough humans to do anything beside fort up at the moment. It'll probably be a few years before they're back up to their previous strength."

"And what then?" she asked quietly, "What are you and Norm going to do?"

_You and Norm._ "You still planning on going over to them?"

She nodded slowly, not saying anything.

He sighed. To be honest, he'd forgotten all about that, what with the chaos of trying to prevent the battle, failing, and now the aftermath.

"I suppose we'll have to ask permission to move into Tartarus. The clan might be ok with us right now, but give them enough time..." he sighed, "They'll probably accept us now, and let us stay, but we'd always be a reminder of what happened here, and I don't want to inflict that on them. Maybe convince Selfridge to start up the science division again, without the Avatars. To be honest," he smiled lightly, "I'm a bit tired of Camp Augustine, as pleasant as it can be, and the idea of eating a pizza right now instead of _yerik_ is simply delicious."

She smiled lightly and nodded, steadying out their flight as they moved out over the jungle, heading back to the _kelutral_, and the wounded still waiting for treatment.

* * *

**Date**: 21:50, June 1st, 2170

**Location**: _Explorer's Dream_, Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centauri A System

Hauling the injured native first up the ladder, then through the airlock, and then towards the habitation modules had not been a fun experience. They had to do it slowly, to try and make sure there was minimal shifting of her already battered organs, and everybody had had to help to also make sure that it did not move too quickly, lest they lose control of the gurney and send her flying through the ship.

By everyone, he excluded the matriarch. She was having enough trouble just keeping up with them, clutching the handrails desperately as they moved down the cargo modules towards their destination.

Several of the nurses available were already waiting, standing impatiently in the low-gravity ring ahead. Their faces betrayed the fact that they were utterly displeased with having to work on keeping a native alive, and Sully was returning their glares.

Parker sighed. He had _hoped _that they would be able to avoid confrontation until _after_ she was in surgery, but it looked like things would be tense off the get-go.

"Gentlemen," he greeted as they slowed, carefully moving her into the ring and towards the long, struggling to hold it against the sudden pull of artificial gravity, "Mind giving us a hand here?"

They nodded slowly and carefully rigged the stretcher to the pulley system that would carefully lower her down the long spar into the module.

He carefully headed down the long shaft first, Sully following him. The ropes began to move slowly as the stretcher followed them, and he could hear a relaxed sigh as that Mo'at woman entered the shaft, no doubt finding the pull of gravity, no matter how slight, comforting at this point.

Emerging into the module, he nodded at the pair of doctors awaiting them, the two women nodding back.

"You didn't jostle the patient, did you?" one of them asked as Sully emerged.

"As little as we could," he assured her.

The two rushed forwards, helping Sully carefully detach the stretcher and lay her out, before stepping back and letting the emerging nurses and medics pick her up, moving her towards surgery.

Sully moved to follow, but one of the women reached up, placing her hand on his stomach. "No. It's going to be crowded enough without you in there. You wait out here."

The avatar hissed at her, "She's my wife! I'm going to-"

"_You_ are going to wait out here." the doctor snapped, "With how agitated you are, you'll destroy half our equipment with _that_." she glanced pointedly at his thrashing tail.

Sully glanced behind him at the appendage, and the doctor promptly stepped through the doorway and shut it behind her, the light proclaiming 'Surgery in Progress' lighting up.

The glaring yellow eyes found him, "This was _not_ part of the deal, I should be in there with her!"

"Sully. Shut up." he tried not to let his voice quaver at the sight of the ten-foot tall furious behemoth. Even crouched over as he was to fit into the human-height room, he was still very imposing, "Find a place to sit down and wait. No doctor anywhere lets people stand around during a surgery, what the hell did you expect?"

Taking his own advice, he strode over to the row of chairs and casually sat down, pulling out his tablet and opening his mining reports.

Mo'at, crouch-walking like Sully, emerged into the room, blinking and looking about, before asking something in native.

Sully replied, and the two had a short conversation. It did not sound like it was going Sully's way, and his ears were flicked back as the older woman snapped something at him.

Nodding jerkily as she finished, the jar-head awkwardly sat on the ground, crossed his arms and stared at the floor. With much more dignity, the matriarch did the same.

For his part, he largely ignored both of them, going through his reports instead.

_Let's see.. casualties being what they are, but we _did_ save all of the mining equipment.._ he tapped his chin thoughtfully, _Could be possible to resume mining at a slower pace. We already have enough for the first ISV, and she's dropping off our main excavator. With that, we might actually manage to get back on schedule. That does, though, _assume_ that the native leave us alone, we don't have the security staff too guard anything more than Tartarus at the moment._

Several hours passed. Him planning, the two natives sitting in silence, occasionally speaking softly.

One of the doctors emerged, around three in the morning, announcing that they were still working, but reassuring Sully that zero-g had not seemed to make anything significantly worse for her, and that they would know for sure if she would live in a few more hours.

Mo'at had thanked her gravely, leaning her head back and murmuring what sounded like prayers. Sully copied her, and the two began to speak in time with each other.

_I'm _not _listening to a sermon, especially in a language I don't even understand_. He saved the report he was working on before yawning and stretching. Feeling bored, he then began making his way back into cargo section of the ship. Normally he would have visited the wounded, just for someone human to talk to, but given the current time, they would most likely all be asleep.

Yawning some more, he pulled himself along to the window facing Pandora and Polyphemus and stared at them. It was a relaxing, empowering sight, as it always was.

A slight clang cause him to start, nearly floating away from the wall. Grabbing it, he turned in irritation to see Mo'at once more clutching desperately to the wall. The clang had been her hand shooting out to seize a handhold as she stepped out of the ring, the old woman most likely having forgotten that gravity cut out rather suddenly beyond it.

Shaking his head, he watched her slowly pull her way over before she slowed and carefully 'stood' next to him.

He nodded to the window, causing her to crouch down and glance through it.

Her mouth opened slowly as she stared at her home-world, Polyphemus magnificent in the background, three other moons barely visible in the darkness.

They stared in silence for a long time, until he eventually broke it, "That's why we would travel the stars."

The elder Na'vi said nothing, simply staring at the wondrous sight before her.

The two remained in silence for a long time more, before Parker eventually kicked off the wall, and made his way back to the ring to await the news of whether the other woman would live or die.

He heard her whisper softly as he passed.

"Beautiful."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 38: Matters of Spirit**

And here's the next bit of my story, the docs have begun working on Neytiri, and parker showed mo'at what the humans see in traveling the stars. Max and everyone are doing what they can, and things on the ground seem to be calming down a bit, but the tension remains.

Next chapter we'll see if the native princess survives, and how both the na'vi and humans are dealing with the aftermath of the fight now that things are starting to calm down.

**Ok guys, TONS of people reading, but not that many reviews?**

**Please please, please, please Review!**


	43. Chapter 38: Matters of Spirit

This just in! I don't own Avatar.

* * *

**Chapter 38: Matters of Spirit**

**Date**: 06:00, June 2nd, 2170

**Location**: _Explorer's Dream_, Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centauri A System

"She'll survive." the taller doctor looked utterly exhausted as she explained the native 'princess's' condition, the other having already retired to her quarters to sleep. "But she's going to be in a lot of pain, and it's probably going to take a few months for all of her injuries to fully heal. She'll need a lot of rehab work before she's anywhere ready to do things like hunt, even after that."

Sully leaned in eagerly, "So she'll be fine?"

The doctor had enough of a conscience to wince, "No.. not really. She should wake up soon, if that's what you mean, but the damage to her body was extremely severe, she might never get over all of it. Control over her tail is probably gone, the nerves were damaged too badly for us to save. She might have unconscious control over it, maybe someday she'll get it back, its hard for me to tell."

"What of her _tswin_? Her.. queue?" Mo'at asked quietly.

A shrug from the doc, "We think it's fine. It did get scraped a bit when she hit the ground, but to be honest, we have no idea. Whether it was working or not was never really a concern for the Avatars, and that's what our training was originally for."

Parker yawned hugely, stretching his arms back, as the two natives kept up with their barrage of questions. _She's going to live dammit. Everything else is secondary to that point_, he thought irritably. _Can we _go _now?_

"How long until we can head back to the surface with her?" he interjected after she finished answering an inane question from Sully.

The doctor sighed softly, "To be honest? Probably shouldn't send her down for a week or two, but we have no where up here to keep her. You can take her down when she wakes up, but she'll have to be inspected by the medics soon as you land, and it would probably be best to keep her with them for at least a week, maybe two, before you send her back to their... tree."

He nodded, yawning again, as she bade her farewells and left.

"Will it be safe, to take her back to our world?" Mo'at asked quietly, "Would the.. zero-gee harm her?"

Sully answered before he could, "It's never really going to be safe for her, but heading down is a lot faster than heading up, we won't be in zero-g for very long. It's more the jostling of the ship that could hurt her."

"Not like you've got a choice," he pointed out, "We don't exactly have native-sized beds up here, or any food that you can eat." his stomach groaned softly, reminding him that he had not eaten since he had left for orbit.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I can catch breakfast with some of my wounded personnel. Try not to wander away or anything."

Barely waiting for them to nod, he moved out of the waiting room and stepped across the hall, entering the recovery room, the smell of food with an underlying scent of medication hitting him instantly.

Of the dozen beds crammed into the room, none were empty, and he knew the other two 'wards' in the module were full as well, to the point where several of the least injured people had been moved to the module on the opposite side of the ring, into the crew's quarters for recovery.

Everyone blinked as he entered, several waving or calling greetings, the rest too busy wolfing down breakfast to notice.

He tapped one of the nurses, "Could you bring me a tray, please?"

She nodded brusquely, sweeping out and down the hall, and he casually leaned against the wall, or bulkhead, or whatever the space-crewmen called it.

The nurse brought him breakfast a moment later. The eggs were instant, and the bacon was slightly burnt, but it still tasted heavenly to him. The quiet buzz of conversation was slowly stifled as he ate, and he looked blearily around when it died completely, leaving the room in silence.

A few people were looking questioningly at him, others were resolutely eating, eyes staring at their food.

He sighed, _Better to get it over with fast, before they even ask._ "Yes. We did bring a native up here for treatment."

A wounded engineer asked quietly, his voice hoarse, "Why sir? After everything they did to us, why bother?"

Several other soldiers and miners rumbled their agreement.

"To avoid it happening again." he spread his hands out, "Look, I don't like it anymore than you guys do. Hell, you all know what happened here last time, doing anything to help the blue-skins isn't high on my list of things I want to do. Unfortunately.. this is something that we did _have_ to do, considering how the battle turned out."

"We're kowtowing to those freaks?" a miner asked savagely.

"No! No way in hell." shaking his head firmly, he continued, "In effect, _they_ are kowtowing to _us_. We're healing her, and in exchange, that tribe is going to leave us alone. Forever. They won't lead the others against us again, or join them. _That_ is why we're doing it."

"Still don't like it," the miner muttered quietly.

"As I already said, I don't either." he pointed out, "But this is the best thing we can do to get the closest tribe to us off our backs permanently. We don't have the people to fight anymore."

The wounded group glanced quietly at each other, nodding slowly. It was clear to Parker that none of them liked it at all, but they'd accepted his explanation, and they would go along with it.

To a degree.

"You won't have to interact with the blue-skins." he promised them, grimacing as he continued, "That is, unfortunately, my job. Anyone want to trade? I could use some time away from them, and the accommodations up here have to be at least as nice as my apartment on the surface."

That brought a small round of laughs, and the tension slowly defused as breakfast resumed.

**Date**: 17:45, June 2nd, 2170

**Location**: _Explorer's Dream_, Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centuari A System

"_Thirsty._" Neytiri whispered, very quietly.

"_Here my daughter_." Mo'at carefully raised the strange, clear object that the _Tawtute doktor_ had given her, letting her daughter sip the water held within very slowly.

Jake'sully was clutching Neytiri's hand, as though he was afraid to let go.

"_Where are we? What happened during the battle?_ _I... I can't remember it.._" her daughter whispered as she finished sipping the cool liquid.

She glanced at her daughter's mate, and he cleared his throat before speaking quietly, "_The battle is over.. the leader of the sky people's warriors injured you badly, near the end of the fighting. We are.. we are in the stars, aboard a ship of the sky people. Their healers saved your life._"

Neytiri smiled softly, "_Then.. we won?_"

She shared another glance with the _Olo'eyktan_, and opened her mouth to gently correct her daughter, only to see her slowly drift back to sleep.

"_That is a conversation I do not look forwards to._" Jake murmured quietly.

Privately, she agreed. "_Stay with her, I will tell the sky person doktor that she awoke."_

Awkwardly squeezing her way through the far too small opening, she saw Jake slowly caress Neytir's face as he settled down beside his wounded mate.

Smiling softly, she glanced around the 'waiting-room'. The _tawtute _leader, Selfridge, _and what a strange name that is!_, was asleep, stretched out over several of the tiny chairs.

The _tawtute doktor_ was doing something with what looked like hovering, glowing lights. She knew the lights were being caused by a machine, but that didn't stop her from starting and staring for a moment.

_Their ways are so strange... so many wondrous things that they experience, yet their wonders are tempered by their insanity._

She had hated them once. A long time ago. Clutching the fallen body of her mate, sobbing with her daughter at the senseless destruction they had wreaked, it had been hard _not_ to hate the petty, insane creatures that had caused them so much pain.

But she had _seen_ what happened in war, in battle. Treated the hundreds of wounded, listened to the crying of the loved ones of the dead. Her hate had been tempered by that anguish, as though the Great Mother had reached out, had shown her what that hate could lead to.

The _tawtute_ who had been allowed to remain behind had whittled what hatred remained into oblivion, the _Uniltirontokx_ struggling to learn how to See, to dismiss their preconceptions of the world around them. The _doktors,_ who were unable to pass through Eywa, surviving their world despite its rejection of them.

And then... then the true _tawtute_ finally returned, and everything became a tangled web of confusion and despair. They had once more began to destroy everything around them, seeking the gray rock that they desired so much. Eywa, her goddess, the mother of all living things, had grown to fear and hate the _tawtute_ in the time since their exile, and their acts of destruction had spurred her to action.

She shuddered at the mere thought of the nightmares her goddess had sent, of the burning fires... the screaming faces. When the call to war came, the _Omaticaya _had answered. She had blessed the warriors with a heavy heart, the warnings of Jake'sully and Max'patel clear in her mind.

None of those who had done battle against the terrible weapons of the _tawtute_ desired to do so again, but Eywa's will was not something easily refused.

_And perhaps, that is the cause of it all._ She mused quietly, awaiting the _doktor_ finishing whatever it was she was doing on the strange machine. _The sky people have no mother. No caring voice to speak to them, give them warmth in the darkest nights. They struggle alone, refusing to cease their fight, even against that which might save them_.

Pity had replaced the hatred within her as she finally began to realize the depths at which the _tawtute_ were unlike the People, the impossibility of them being able to See as they did.

And yet...

The soft, lush glow of her world below her was a sight she never even dreamed of... and she knew that she would treasure it forever. And when she had seen it, for the briefest instant, she wanted to see _more_. Wanted to see the world of the _tawtute_, their Earth. Wanted to see the other worlds. Wanted to sail the stars... but then the cool, dead metal around her and shaken her from the trance, the too-thin air reminding her to breath more. Reminding her that to see those sights of wonder, she would have to forever leave Eywa.

She still could not understand the much of the _tawtute_, but now she could understand their wanderlust, why they traveled the stars despite the danger.

"Hello?" the voice of the _tawtute doktor_ carried the sound of one who had repeated herself many times.

Her skin burned softly as her marking glowed with her embarrassment. _Age seems to be catching up to my mind as it has my body_.

"My daughter awoke, for a short time."

The small woman nodded, "I know. You want to know if you can take her down?"

"She will heal better if she is closer to Eywa." though the machines of the _tawtute_ had saved her daughter's life, and though she understood them more now, the wounded should be surrounded by life, in all its glory.

The _tawtute_ gave her what seemed to be a very skeptical glance but nodded slowly, "I'll examine her and let you know."

Following the _doktor_ through the _tawtute_ sized opening once more, she watched quietly as Jake carefully backed out of the healer's way.

The woman said nothing, carefully examining the machines around her daughter, pushing small... 'buttons' she thought they were called, and _hmming _ to herself as she did so.

Finishing with the machines, she moved onto carefully examining Neytiri herself. This did not take nearly as long, outwardly, her daughter looked to be nearly fine, save for the massive bruise. The damage was to the inside.

"She looks like she is doing all right. As a doctor, I'm really, _really_ not happy about the idea of moving her back to the surface, it could undo a lot of the work we did, but unfortunately, there isn't much choice." the _doktor _sighed, "We just don't have the room up here for any more patients, human or native, and I doubt the atmosphere here is going to help her much. I'll wake the Administrator up and get a few nurses to help bring her back to the Valkyrie."

The two of them murmured their thanks to her, Jake moving to once more caress and hold his mate as soon as he was able.

Mo'at moved slowly to the other side of her daughter, and quietly thanked Eywa that her last daughter still remained to her, and asked the Great Mother to watch over Neytiri as they returned from the stars.

* * *

**Date**: 19:20, June 2nd, 2170

**Location**: _Omaticaya Kelutral, _Pandora, Alpha Centuari A System

"_When will my mother and father return! Answer me!_" the young voice demanded once more.

_Maybe I should have stayed at Tartarus. _Max mused. Dealing with Thomes was annoying. Dealing with Tsu'tey was arguably worse. The human woman, at least, had other things to do besides annoy him, and at least had provided them with supplies.

Tsu'tey, as soon as he'd snapped out of his state of shock, had appointed himself Max's aide. He'd been surprised and grateful at first, until he realized that the young Na'vi intended to grill him constantly as they worked.

"They will return when the _tawtute doktor_ says they can return." he replied irritably as he wrapped bandages around a young warrior's calf, the woman watching him with wide eyes as his hands secured the white bandage. He switched to Na'vi, "_Try to walk on it as little as possible for several days, at least."_

"_Thank you doktor'patel._" the young woman murmured quietly in return.

Standing and stretching, he glanced around. The last few wounded had been treated, and now it was merely changing bandages and reminding the stubborn Na'vi not to do anything that would re-open their wounds.

"_I don't understand why the sky people's doctors could not come here to heal her_." Tsu'tey grumbled.

He sighed again. As soon as his friend's son had realized that he spoke and understood Na'vi, he had _not_ shut up. Granted, it was better than listening to his terrible English, but he had already answered that question. Five times.

"_Because they can't move the machines they need to work on her_." _Six times._ "_Why don't you go help Tsaro? I think he's going to organize a hunting party tonight._"

The youth frowned at him, but obediently moved off to find the elder.

Expelling his breath in a grateful sigh, he trudged over to their Samson. Katrina was sprawled in the cargo area, completely passed out. Norm waved from inside the cockpit, and Max gratefully hopped in as quickly as he could.

The two waited for the small air-purity indicator to flash green before removing their exopacks and digging into their packs for food. _Tapirus_ jerky was not particularly good, but he was starving enough not to care.

"Tsu'tey annoying you again?" his spindly friend asked around a mouthful of dried meat.

"Constantly." he shook his head, "Kid has plenty of stubbornness in him, not surprising considering his parents, but he's got his namesake's temper and dislike of humans."

"Gonna get him in trouble someday." Norm predicted as he slurped on some water.

Max blinked at him. Norm was eating and drinking as fast as he could, an odd change of pace considering that he had always preferred to take his time eating in the past.

"What's the rush man?"

"Huh?" Green eyes blinked confusedly at him.

He sighed, "You're eating like you're on a time limit, which you never do. What's up?"

"Oh." his fellow scientist blinked and stared at his mostly gone food, as if just now realizing what he had been doing. "Just.. caught up I guess."

A smile threatened to work its way onto his face. _Of course. This must be like a dream come true for him. After fifteen years of waiting, he finally gets to help the tribe and be accepted doing so._

"I think most of the wounded will make it." he changed the subject.

Norm smiled, "Yeah, those supplies really helped, even if who we got them from is kind of annoying."

"Annoying? That's an understatement." Max shook his head, "I finally understand all of those jokes the guys they sent out to examine Hell's Gate for reclamation used to tell about her."

His friend laughed, "Yeah. Good to know that people over there think she's a bitch too, not just us."

Max carefully put his exopack back on as Norm finished his food, donning his own pack and hopping out of their ship and heading back into the village.

Smiling and shaking his head, he waited for the air to clear again before he resumed eating at a more sedate pace.

The tribe would heal, given time, and with luck, Neytiri would as well. His smile fell as he slowly ate.

_Going to have to talk to Selfridge as soon as the four of them return. No way am I asking Thomes permission, not after earlier, _he began to lay his plans out in his head, _Worst they can do is say no, which means me and Norm will have to stay at our Camp. Maybe trade ammunition from them at least, get Jake to let us move the modules closer maybe, help the tribe in exchange for food_?

Nodding to himself as he established back-up plans, he yawned and stretched out as much as he could in the chair. He had done all he could for the day, and it was time for sleep.

* * *

**Date**: 19:35, June 2nd, 2170

**Location**: Valkyrie docked to _Explorer's Dream_, Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centuari A System

Sleeping a good portion of the afternoon away had done wonders for his disposition.

All in all, it had been a rather successful trip, a rather pleasant change of pace considering that almost everything always went wrong when he was on, or near, that cursed planet below them.

The nurses were slowly lowering the comatose native woman into the main cargo-hold, preparing to secure her tightly once more. Sully had not left her side except when forced to, and was even now holding tightly onto the side of her stretcher as they glided downwards.

Mo'at seemed just as uncomfortable in zero-gravity as ever, trying to emulate how the humans were moving around her and just as evidently trying not to show how much not holding onto something was terrifying her. The spots on her body seemed to light up brightly when she saw him smiling and shaking his head as she tightly grasped and clung to the handlebars next to the seats.

The native woman had seemed a bit more at ease aboard the station after he had shown his 'revelation' to her, but seemed glad enough to heading back to the ground.

Sully had been almost completely silent since the morning, spending all of his time clinging to whats-her-name.

_Which is a massive improvement_. _Easy to make sure no fights break out if all he does is obsess over her and refuse to talk to anyone_.

It had made his promise to the wounded men and women easy to keep, neither of the natives had left the waiting-room or the surgery room during the day.

The nurses finished strapping the unmoving native in place, then kicked off and headed back up towards the airlock without a word.

With what looked like a great deal of regret, Sully drifted away from her, strapping himself in and showing Mo'at how to do the same.

He sighed. _It was such a lovely break too. Then again, any time away from that death-world and the heaps of work it requires is a lovely break._

Resolving to visit the wounded as often as he could, he sighed as as the Valkyrie shuddered lightly. Shortly thereafter, the alarm rang as the pilot announced that they had detached and were preparing to begin their descent.

The matriarch's voice carried across the hold as the fusion engines began to whine, pressing them sideways as the ship began to accelerate, she seemed to be praying.

Closing his eyes, he laughed softly and called out, "Your goddess can't hear you up here, our lives are in the hands of machines and the people operating them."

Both natives shot him a glare and he laughed again as the temperature began to rise as they fell into the atmosphere, the engines shifting in tone, his body beginning to press down into his seat as real gravity began to pull upon it.

It was a far more interesting return than normal, watching Mo'at trying to act as though this was all normal to her, and Sully trying to quietly reassure her that everything was fine, was a hoot. Her face contorted in fear each time the engine's changed their pitch, first as the fusion engines cut out, so that the turbo-jets could activate, then again as they shifted to VTOL mode as the massive shuttle groaned with the efforts of deceleration.

The ship shuddered once more as they lightly touched down, and with a sigh he donned his exopack, the medics who had traveled with them doing the same.

It was already dark, or as dark as it ever got on Pandora, though what he could see of the base from the slowly descending ramp did look much better than it had before they had left.

His eyes were drawn to three massive wooden pyres, colored flags gracing the tallest portions catching them.

He sighed, "Break's over, time to get back to work, and we're just in time for the funerals."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 39: Hail the Fallen**

Neytiri should make it, Mo'at is beginning to understand the humans more, and the tribe seems to be in good shape. This story is winding down towards its planned end at this point, though I might increase it's length or start a spin-off/sequel if enough people want me to.

As far as reviews go: Wow. Thanks for all them guys & girls, please keep them coming!

**Please keep reviewing everyone!**


	44. Chapter 39: Hail the Fallen

Running out of new ways to say I don't own Avatar.

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**Chapter 39: Hail the Fallen**

**Date**: 20:07, June 2nd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centuari A System

The _tawtute_ had told her to stay in the _shah-tell_ until their rites for the fallen were completed, saying "The last thing our people need to see right now is you three right now.", before he had hurried off to take part.

Mo'at could understand that, the People would not have reacted well to seeing _tawtute_ while they laid their honored dead to rest, so it made sense that the _tawtute_ might feel the same.

What she could not understand was _how_ the _tawtute _were going about it. She realized, with slightly growing horror, as several of them approached the wooden biers with lit torches, that they intended to _burn_ their dead.

She had to remind herself, very firmly, that the _tawtute_ did not travel to Eywa's embrace, but the idea of destroying their bodies still struck her as a transgression, it went against the natural order of things, far more so than their usual insanity.

_The dead should be laid to rest so that life can be brought from their energy once it has returned to the Great Mother! _

Then one of the _tawtute_ began to sing.

She had never heard a _tawtute_ sing before. The singer's, it sounded like a woman, small body made the song sound odd, yet it did not seem to detract any beauty from what she was creating with her voice.

The song itself... was mournful, quiet, yet beautiful. It was clearly a song for the departed, and she watched as they continued to sing, the torch bearers slowly lighting the massive pyres, flames roaring up to consume wood and flesh. It was not in _inglisi_, she did not recognize the words at all.

"_What does she sing of?"_ she asked Jake quietly as he watched from his place next to Neytiri.

Her daughter's made responded just as quietly, "_I do not know, I've never heard the language she sings in."_

The fire had roared higher now, consuming the strangely colored cloths hanging from the highest portions of the wood, and she could smell the faint odor of burning flesh as the wind shifted.

She watched the fire roar and consume, the crowd of _tawtute_ simply standing and watching as it greedily consumed the bodies of their kin.

_Such a strange folk. Their music is beautiful, yet they destroy their dead, rather than allowing their bodies to rest as the great mother intended. So strange_.

The _tawtute_ woman continued her song for a short while more, voice slowly fading as she finished, and as though the end were a signal, the majority of the crowd began to disperse. Most began to make their way into the stone and metal structures of their home, several, however, remained behind, gazing into the roaring fire.

Selfridge had made his way back to them, the strange device over his face gleaming with the distant orange-red light.

"We tried to get in touch with Patel, but no one answered, they're probably already passed out, we'll try again in the morning. In the meantime, we're going to wait to offload your daughter until everyone is mostly asleep. They've moved some medical gear to an attachment of the machine shop in the Ops-Center." the _tawtute _explained.

She nodded, "For how long will she remain here?"

The small man shrugged, "Probably until Patel thinks she's fine enough to move around on her own."

Jake spoke, "How many of us can stay with her?"

"You two. That's it. And we'd prefer it if you didn't stay around all the time. You can have Patel or Spellman with her constantly if that makes you feel better."

The _olo'eyktan_ seemed to think it over, before nodding very slowly. "We won't be a welcome sight here."

"No. You won't. We've got enough problems convincing everyone it's worth the time and effort to heal her, and not just slit her throat." the _tawtute_ responded bluntly. "It's in everyone's best interests if you two get out of here in the morning when Patel shows up."

She felt her ears flicking back, this was not what she had hoped for. "And you are sure we cannot move her to the _kelutral_?"

The _tawtute_ spread his hands apart, "You want her to get injured and bleed out, fine, take her, we're not healing her again."

A hiss nearly escaped her before she reigned it in. _And there are times when pity so rapidly gives way to anger._

"Very well, I shall speak to Max'patel in the morning."

"You do that," Selfridge shrugged again, looking utterly unconcerned, "In the meantime, I have work to do, the medics know where to take her."

He turned and left without a word of farewell, heading towards the _tawtute_'s home.

Theother _tawtute_ began unstrapping Neytiri, hefting her up with small groans and heading towards the closer building. Jake and herself following more slowly, glancing around as they did so. Those few who had remained behind, staring into the flames, did not react to their approach, or even seem to notice them move behind and past them.

Up close, she realized just how massive the fires were, and the stench of burning wood and flesh filled her nose. Even for one who had treated the injuries of the great battle long ago, the smell was nearly enough to cause her to vomit.

Covering her nose and mouth with one hand, she hurried past.

The _tawtute_ healers brought her daughter around the large stone building, to a large opening in its side. Several of their massive, metal suits had been brought into the room, all looked battered and broken.

What disturbed her the most was the imagery depicted upon them. Though faded, chipped, and in some cases, burned, the portraits of snarling, horrific creatures stared at her from their surfaces. It was extremely unsettling to look upon, even though she knew that the machines had to be broken.

They brought Neytiri into a small side room, machines that she recognized as medicinal in nature were already there and waiting, and a make-shift bed for someone of her size was already there.

Carefully lifting the stretcher and placing it upon the strange bedding, the _tawtute_ just as carefully moved it our from under her. One began to attach the machines to her as another examined the strange glowing lights that they emitted.

"Is she all right?" Jake asked quietly.

The one gazing at the machines nodded slowly, "Looks like her vitals are all right. Hard to say, we're not experts on your kind's biology, but they look stable, at least. Patel will know more."

Finishing their tasks, the _tawtute_ bade them good nights, warned them to stay in the room and not wander around, and then left.

Jake had already knelt next to his mate, holding her unmoving hand and gently examining her _tswin_. She knelt beside him, slowly closed her eyes and leaned her head back, quietly beseeching her great mother to spare her daughter from pain.

* * *

**Date**: 06:45, June 3rd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker yawned and stretched as he carefully picked his way through the Ops-Center. Though they had repaired the missing glass and welded the metal shutters back together so that they did not need exopacks anymore, the room was still a mess. Most of the consoles had been damaged, either from arrows or bullets, and only one bank of computers and the main holotable were actually working. He honestly was not sure how the massive thing had avoided damage, but he certainly was not going to complain about it.

It had felt good to sleep in an actual bed again, and word from Thomes that their communications officer, who had managed to survive the final, insane charge, had been able to get in touch with Spellman earlier put him in a cheerful mood.

_Well rested for the first time in over a week, don't have to personally deal with Patel or Spellman for several hours. Good start for today._

Stretching once more, he gazed out the windows. Though the local sun was only now rising, work crews were already prowling the base. Mining equipment was being jury-rigged to help in the repair process, Thomes having dictated that she would let him resume mining once two things happened: first, that defenses around Tartarus were repaired, second, that they were _sure_ that the natives and wildlife would leave his miners alone.

In addition, there was the issue of the wounded native princess or whatever she was to consider. They had debated about resuming mining almost immediately, essentially using her as a hostage without explicit stating so, but they eventually agreed that it would only enrage Sully and his blue-skinned friends.

In the meantime, there were plenty of repairs to do.

They had lost all of their Samsons, two of their three Valkyries, and all of their AMP suits were currently down. The surviving mechanics thought they could get at least six of the AMP's back in working order, mostly by cannibalizing parts from the others.

Kozlov entered the room, yawning and clutching a cup of coffee in his paws.

"Morning." he nodded to the burly man.

"Morning." the Russian Captain nodded back.

"Where's Thomes?"

"Am I her keeper?" Nikolai shrugged, "She'll be here eventually."

He snorted, shaking his head, and reached down to begin manipulating the holotable, zooming in on the two massive buildings and the defenses around them.

The sole remaining Captain sighed after sipping his coffee and noticing what he had done. "Our defenses are going to be a problem."

He frowned at him, "How so? I mean, I know we don't have the manpower to defend the outer lines anymore, we'll probably have to fill them in, but the inner defenses should still be good, right?"

"Not really. Even the inner defenses were designed around having over two hundred people manning them. We're going to need to fill in at least half of them."

"Damn. Fill in all of them and rebuild from scratch or just modify the existing trenches?" he frowned.

Kozlov shrugged, "There are a few engineers still alive, I have a meeting with them at noon to go over it."

Yawning and nodding, he sat back and glanced over the glowing three-dimensional image. Kozlov slowly sipped at his drink, pulling up a chair across the table from him, and the two sat in companionable silence as they awaited Thomes' arrival.

Their commander arrived several minutes later, the bags under her eyes having been banished by the virtue of actually having a solid nights sleep, much like his own.

"Morning all." she briskly made her way into her own chair and pulled it up.

"Morning Maria." he nodded back to her, "What's our morning agenda?"

"Exactly what you'd think it would be." a shrug from the Canadian woman, "Dealing with the natives and our own plans until the _Comet's Lament_ arrives."

"Ignore them, mine what we can, and sit tight?" he guessed.

That earned him an exasperated glare, "I was hoping for something more concrete than that Parker."

He smiled beatifically at her, "Would be helpful. Well, we can start mining whenever you say we're good to go, I have a meeting with my mining crews this afternoon to go over our plans to resume. Going to make sure that everyone knows it's going to be volunteer job."

"Good, saves me the trouble of telling you that." she pulled out her personal computer and flicked through several files, "Nikolai, how is our ammunition? Supplies?"

"We're now extremely overstocked on food and basic supplies. Ammunition is low, but we should be able to stretch it out." the bigger man ticked off the points on his list.

She nodded and glanced over the image of their battered home, "I talked with the engineers last night, they think that with everyone working we can get the defenses around the buildings finished within a few days, maybe a week. Parker, how are your mechanics doing on the AMP suits?"

"Maybe six of them, few days. Bet that blue-skin will love waking up to them working."

Thomes snorted and chuckled, "That would be a sight to see. They are still painted up right?"

He chuckled, "Yep."

The table pinged before the meeting could continue, a flashing light marking an incoming Samson, the communication table flashing a few moments later.

Sighing, he rose from the table and made his way over, putting on a headset and pressing the 'receive' button, "Tartarus command."

"This is Dr. Patel, we're approaching your perimeter, permission to land?" the scientist's voice resonated in his earpiece.

"Go ahead Patel. Your patient and the two blue-skins with her are in the machine job attached to the Ops-Center. If you could please get the two of them out of here as soon as possible, that would be great."

The good doctor's voice came across, "We will once we check on Neytiri and make sure she's all right."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine fine. Tartarus out."

Returning to his chair, he nodded to Thomes, "Patel is almost here. They're going to check on the princess before they fly the two natives out."

She shrugged carelessly, "As long as they're gone before the mechanics get there. Now, we have the medical suppllies to go over, then I'm off to breakfast before I go meet the good Doctor."

* * *

**Date**: 07:17, June 3rd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Light focused slowly as she blinked her eyes. It was harsh, glaring, far too white and bright. Unnatural.

The smells hit her moments later. Metal. Stone. Pungent, harsh smells she had no reference to.

She recognized the stench. _Tawtute_.

Gasping, she tried to sit up, only to nearly cry out as the pain slammed into her chest and back.

A warm hand clasped one of hers tightly, and her Jake's voice carried to her, "_Calm my love, calm!_"

Gulping, she breathed out, "_Where are we? Still.. still amongst the stars?_"

Her mother's voice responded, "_No my daughter, we are in their home of metal and stone."_

"_Why? Did.." _it made no sense, "_Why I am here, why not at the home-tree?_"

There was a very long silence, one that made fear began to clutch her heart.

"_We... we didn't win...? But.. but how? Why are they healing me?_" Confusion and terror were warring for control of her mind.

"_We... I. I agreed that we wouldn't bother them anymore if they healed you._" her Jake's voice sorrowfully sounded next to her.

"_But.. no, no! Am I worth more than all the lives and energy that they will take with their insanity?_" she wanted to hit the moron that she loved.

"_Because I couldn't lose you. Because we already lost. Because the tribe will be lucky to survive without merging with another clan._" Her mate continued sorrowfully.

"_There has been enough death._" her mother agreed quietly, "_There has been enough fighting. The time for talk has come._"

"_But.._" she whispered quietly, struggling against the exhaustion struggling to pull her back into sleep's dark embrace, "_But.._"

"_Quiet love._" her Jake's hand rested across her forehead, "_Sleep now, we can talk later._"

She gave into the darkness, rest overwhelming her.

* * *

**Date**: 07:35, June 3rd, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Is she still unconscious?" Max asked as he rushed into the room, Norm panting behind him as they removed their packs full of extra gear, carefully setting them aside.

"She was awake for a short time not long ago, but she rests now." Mo'at quietly responded from her place at her daughter's side.

He began to check over the medical equipment and gear that the medics had provided, talking while he worked, "Did she say anything? Was she coherent?"

"She seemed fine, if confused at what was going on." Jake responded, not taking his eyes off his wounded mate.

_Adequate. _He decided finally. _Though a bit more tailored to human biology than Na'vi, but they probably received only basic training for taking care of Avatars, if they received any at all. Could be worse._

Eyes flicking over the readouts, he continued his evaluation, _Heart rate good. She was awake and not crazy, both good. Doesn't look like the trip down hurt her any._

Norm quietly shuffled forwards and checked her over physically. "Looks like she's fine. Or," he grimaced, "At least as fine as she can be under the circumstances."

"That's not very reassuring." Jake murmured quietly.

Norm placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "She's tough, young. She'll pull through. Will probably take a while for her bones to mend, but she should be fine."

Their friend nodded slowly, breathing out heavily. "Are you sure we have to leave?"

A woman's voice came from behind them, sounding amused, "You want to start a new war? Feel free to stay."

He sighed. _Thomes. Joy. _

"Captain," he turned, nodding to the blonde woman, "Good morning."

"Good Morning Doctors. How is the patient?"

"She should be fine." he glanced out of the small room to the machine shop and AMP suits beyond, "I don't suppose there's a different place you could let her rest? Somehow I get the feeling that some very loud repairs are going to be occurring here."

"We're repairing _everything_." she pointed out, "And somehow I doubt that she's in any condition to be moved any time soon."

He grimaced. _Dammit. She's in no shape to be moved around again, and somehow I doubt they'd be willing to move all this equipment to our Camp._

Her smirk indicated she knew that she had won yet another point on him, before her expression became a tad more serious, "The room is partially sound-proofed, and considering her injuries, she should be able to sleep through the work."

That earned a slightly grateful nod, _Well. At least she isn't a total bitch _all _the time._

The UN leader continued, "But it would be best for everyone if Mr. Sully and the matriarch here left soon, before the mechanics arrive. They all understand why we're healing her, but minimizing contact is in everyone's best interests to avoid conflict."

Jake's ears flicked back, it was painfully obvious that he did not want to leave her side.

_Dammit Jake. Stay calm._

"Jake, we'll be here with her at all times." he tried to sound as reassuring as he could, "She'll be safe with us, and Katrina will be there with you. If anything happens we can call you."

With visible effort, the former marine nodded and forced himself to stand, pausing only to kiss her forehead lightly before stomping out, tossing a glare at Thomes as he did. Mo'at followed with much more grace after quietly bidding her daughter goodbye.

Thomes snorted lightly after they had headed outside, shaking her head, "Feel free to ask if you need anything, but try not to wander around unescorted."

He called out as she turned to leave, "Wait! Um.." she glanced at him, "We need to talk with Selfridge at some point. Could you send him over here later?"

That got him an arched eyebrow in response, "He will be held up in meetings until tonight, I'll have him stop by then. What do you need to discuss with the dear Administrator?"

_I would really rather not discuss that with you._ "That would be private." he said firmly.

She stared at him in an evaluating fashion for several moments before nodding, "Very well. Take care of your.. friend here."

With that she left, shutting the door behind her.

He and Norm groaned simultaneously, shaking their heads, before resuming examining Neytiri and her readouts.

"Norm, make a list of what you think we might need that isn't already here, I'll head out in a bit and see if I can find a medic or someone to find it for us."

His friend sighed, "Somehow I get the feeling that taking care of Neytiri will be far easier than keeping the peace between her and Jake."

_No kidding Norm._ "We can worry about that later, let's just focus on her at the moment."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 40: Rainy Days**

And here is the next chapter. Would have been out earlier, but RL kind of intervened, I should be able to get out the next chapter soonish, but my rate of updating might slow down to once every few days, trying to expand my portfolio so I can get a programming job and thus afford things like a new computer, my Frankenstein's creation of a pc is starting to fail me.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand, the humans have laid their dead to rest and started laying their plans to continue, and neytiri has begun the long, slow healing process. Next up will be looking primarily at Tartarus and the goings-on there as the repairs and healing begin.

Glad to see that even more people are reading and that everyone is enjoying it, hope that everyone keeps enjoying it up to the end. At the moment, I'm considering a sequel but don't quote me on it, this story is also going to be a bit longer than planned (this chapter was supposed to be much longer and wrap things up for the epilogues, but I decided to continue it for several more at least).

**Love the rate of reviews, Please Keep Reviewing!**

**Review Responses**

Some101: Always liked the Epsilon Eridani system, just has a cool ring to it. And I do tend to play Halo a bit too much. And ya, this is the first fanfic or actual story that i've written, of any kind.

blackmamuth: that may creep up a bit later, much later.

insaneduk: wow, glad to know I got you to do that :).

**Author's Note:**

Expect Act II to be quality-control updated along with the next chapter.


	45. Chapter 40: Rainy Days

- inset a useless disclaimer here -

* * *

**Chapter 40: Rainy Days**

**Date**: 18:35, June 3rd, 2170

**Location: **Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker gave a huge and genuine yawn as he wandered towards the mechanical shed. The meeting that had been supposed to take an hour had, naturally, lasted for five. They had, however, been able to hammer out their rough plans to resume limited mining as soon as the repairs were complete and they could spare the gear and personnel.

His people were _not_ thrilled with the idea of heading back outside the relative safety of Tartarus, and he had had to remind them that unobtanium was the only reason they were on the planet at all. He had also reassured them that, as soon as the AMP suits were repaired, the massive exoskeletons would be on patrol around the mining site. Even then, most of his men and women had not been exactly eager.

_I'll have to spend a lot of time out there with them to keep their morale up_. He grimaced slightly at the thought.

In the meantime, however, they would all have to lend a hand in changing the the layout of their defenses. Several of their now-precious trucks were hauling the excavated dirt from one location to another, building more permanent defenses around their only two completed buildings even as Kozlov was visibly conferring with the Sergeant in charge of the remaining American engineers.

He was _supposed_ to be inside, helping re-organize their limited indoor space for maximum efficiency, but instead he was stuck meeting up with Patel and Spellman about something or another.

_They didn't even say what they wanted._ The annoyed thought crept through his mind. _Couldn't it have waited a few days_?

Sighing, he shielded his eyes as he approached the machine shop. Mechanics were scrambling over the wreckage of their AMP suits, welding torches flaring brightly as they cannibalized the massive beasts so that a few of them, at least, would live.

"Dammit." he muttered through the din, "And here I thought the AMP suits were loud when they were online."

Trying to both cover his ears and his eyes, he rapidly threaded his way through the various tool chests and collections of parts until he reached the large door that had once held the garage's office.

Not bothering to knock, he strode straight in, swinging the door closed behind him, letting the noise level drop instantly.

The native was awake, and had thrown up a massive four-fingered hand over her eyes, snarling something as the door shut.

Spellman sounded irritated, but then again, the geek always did when he was talking to him, "You could have knocked you know, given her a chance to cover her eyes."

"You're right. I could have." he agreed easily, "Now, what did you want? In case you didn't notice, I have better things to be doing."

That earned him a glare from all three of them, which he did his best to ignore.

Patel spoke eventually, "Katrina, one of us, wants to go back to Earth, or at the very least, sign up with you guys."

He blinked at that. "Huh? A tree-hugger wants back into the fold?"

A grimace from the darker skinned man, "To understate things, she's rather sick of living hand-to-mouth out in the jungle."

"And why should we take her back?" Parker shot back. It was reflexive. If his memory was right, Katrina was their pilot, and he knew for a fact that neither one of these geeks could fly.

_I have a good guess where this is going, _he thought smugly, _And I'm going to get everything I can out of it._

"She'll bring her Samson with her." Spellman said quietly, "And fly for you. Considering you don't have any Samsons left, that should be more than enough to forget about anything she did to the RDA."

He mentally snorted. _They're _still _worried about that? Honestly. Most people on Terra probably already forgot, and the UN and RDA just want everything kept neatly under-wraps, prosecuting people would just draw attention to it._

"That sounds acceptable for her." he said slowly, as though it was paining him to say it. "I take it there's more to this?"

The two humans exchanged a glance, and he noted that the blue-skin was frowning in confusion, massive eyes flicking back and forth between the two men.

"Without the Samson, we can't hunt. If we can't hunt we die. So.. so we need to join up as well." Patel said, sighing as he did so.

He crossed his arms, "And what are you giving us? You already promised your research in exchange for reclamation of the old area, and as far as I know, Thomes is still going to go through with that once we have the manpower."

"We promised _some_ of our research." Patel corrected, "We've had fifteen years here, we have a great deal of work done that we can give to you to send back. We're also willing to resume working and researching for the UN."

That got a grudging nod out of him. Patel really did like to plan for all contingencies when he could.

_And hey, the conversation is still civil and polite, Augustine would have been screaming and ranting by now_.

"I will have to go over it with Thomes, she's the overall base commander now, but I do not anticipate there being any issues with that." Another thought occurred to him, "As you both speak native, add 'diplomats' to your list of responsibilities. Try to actually succeed at it, unlike Sully."

A soft hiss came from the native, "Do not insult my mate!"

He glanced over at her. _Still immobile_. "As his former employer, I can insult him all I want for massively failing at his assigned job, as well as destroying most of my company's property on this planet. And as a human, I can insult him all I want for being responsible for possibly dooming my species to self-extermination."

She struggled for a moment, as though debating about leaping up and tearing his face off, before slumping back into the bed and merely glaring at him.

Maria had a far more impressive glare than she did, and he quite easily resumed ignoring her, turning to Patel instead. "So. If that is everything I have work to do. I'll talk with Thomes tomorrow morning on your proposal, and I'm fairly sure that it will be acceptable. Please remember, however, _who_ you're working for and what species you are this time."

From their faces, both knew quite well, and were not thrilled.

He shrugged, turned, and left, smirking as the native hissed in irritation once more as the low drone of background noise turned into a roar as the door swung open.

* * *

**Date: **13:10, June 7th, 2170

**Location: **Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The effort of merely standing was nearly too much for her body to take. Norm and Max were standing carefully next to her, arms held slightly out as though they expected her to fall at any time.

Refusing to show exactly how close she was to tipping over, she straightened as much as she could in the too small room and concentrated on remaining upright.

It had been several days since she had seen her mother or her mate, both were being kept quite busy tending to the wounded and attempting to organize hunting parties to begin feeding the people. She had been able to speak to her Jake on one of the _tawtute_'s speaking devices after Max had finished talking with Katrina. Though Max and Norm were pleasant enough company, the rest of the _tawtute_ were not nearly as acceptable. Both of their leaders were especially unbearable, and the constant _noise_ of them working on their machines just outside was driving her insane.

This was the first time she had been allowed by the two _toktor's_ to stand and attempt to walk, and she was determined not to fail. Very carefully, she tried to take a step, nearly sending Norm flying when her arms shot out to balance herself.

Gulping a panicked breath, she let out a quiet sob and stared down and behind her at her tail.

"_I still can't feel it._" Neytiri spoke very quietly.

Both of her _tawtute_ friends winced at that, Norm being the one to speak, "We were afraid of that. The doctor on their ship did what she could, but it was pretty badly damaged. You might never get the feeling or control of it back."

The other chimed in, his voice very serious, "But, fortunately, it's something you can live with. I know it isn't what you want to hear right now, but it could have been much, much worse."

Nodding slowly, she very carefully turned and bent over enough to be able to slowly crawl into the strange bedding, laying down on her side once more.

She stared blankly at the wall beyond them.

It was hard not be angry with them. Very hard. How would they know what it was like, how would they know it 'could be worse?'. She could not _feel_ her tail. And despite what they had said, that she could eventually learn to walk and run and climb without it, she knew better.

Memories of wounded warriors from the Great Battle swam through her mind. They could all walk, even run, although without the silence needed to pursue prey. But climb?

_I will never again be able to so lightly run amongst the tree-tops..._

The thought depressed her heavily. She loved flying, adored it, but there was more to a hunter than merely being able to fly on one's _ikran_ all of the time.

She would never be the same hunter and warrior that she once had been.

That knowledge stung.

Though she knew that her Jake would always accept her, and the tribe would do anything for her, and that, as the future _tsahik_, she would not be required to hunt as much, the knowledge was still painful to bear. She was a hunter. A warrior. It was who she was, who she had always been.

Now, she was that no longer.

Norm sighed quietly, "Let's talk about something else, shall we? We talked with Thomes yesterday, she said that Jake and Mo'at can visit tomorrow, if you don't mind."

That earned small smile and a slight nod. _It will be good to see them again. Perhaps I can convince them to let me leave? Perhaps ride on a Pa'li?_

That thought cheered her immensely, and she did not fight the sleep that rose to claim her, looking forwards to dreaming of once more being at the _kelutral_.

* * *

**Date: **13:22, June 7th, 2170

**Location: **Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Max sighed quietly as he watched Neytiri slip into sleep again. She was not sleeping the days away anymore, but she was prone to slowly drowsing off randomly as the waves of exhaustion hit her.

"She's not taking the paralyzing of her tail very well." Norm murmured quietly.

"Not too surprising." he said after a moment, "Remember the original Tsu'tey? They really take any kind of permanent maiming very hard."

Norm shook his head, absently fixing his faded and stained cap, "I get it. And I don't." he sighed. "It's the little things that make us so different in the end. I mean, I can get being depressed over losing a limb or being paralyzed or something, but wanting to end it all or thinking it's the end of the world?"

He sighed and shook his head before glancing at the time, "Keep an eye on her, I have to head to that meeting with Selfridge and Thomes."

"Have fun." his friend smiled at him, sitting down and turning on the computer.

Snorting, he opened the door, slipped out, and shut it as quickly as he could. The noise level was much lower than it had been several days previously, when they had been doing major repairs, but the mechanical growls and roars as the repaired AMP suits were being put through their paces was still quite loud.

He moved quickly around through the shop, heading to the airlock that connected it to the interior of the Ops-Center, gratefully tearing off his exo-pack as the air cycled.

The unfortunate thing about once more working with humans was that he had to get used to scheduled days again. That, and staff meetings. Though Thomes was, more or less, letting Kozlov, Selfridge, and himself run their own sections with minimal interference, she _did_ insist on nearly-daily meetings to ensure that she was fully up-to-date on what was happening. And as the new 'Head of the Science and Research Division', he had to attend.

Arriving in the recently refurbished conference room, he nodded to the burly Russian captain already sitting in his chair. He had to admit, of the three UN leaders, he liked Nikolai the best, the man cared only about protecting the base and keeping the people in it alive, everything else was effectively non-existent as far as he was concerned.

_And unlike Quaritch, he actually is tolerable to talk with_.

Selfridge strolled in shortly after, lazily snacking on chips from an aluminum bag, flopping into his own chair and continuing his munching.

_And yet, somethings never change._

He wasn't sure what to think about Selfridge. On one hand, the man was a consummate coward who cared only about the bottom dollar, but on the other, he did seem to have changed a bit from all those years ago. Perhaps for the better?

Covering up a wince, he nodded as their leader strolled in after Selfridge. The blonde Canadian woman nodded back and murmured greetings as she headed towards her own chair.

_Her on the other hand.._

There was no love lost between them. Thomes did not care about the Na'vi, at all. Selfridge at least, had seemed to show guilt when the _kelutral_ had been destroyed, but her? She would have shrugged and forgotten about it within moments. If it was not human, it did not matter to her. Combined with the fact that she did not like him in return, and it had not taken him long to confer primarily with Selfridge or Kozlov whenever he could.

"Afternoon." Thomes greeted as she took her seat, "Not too much to go over today, so let's get it done with fast. Parker, status of your mining teams?"

"They've gotten the gear back to Site Two, and started up again. Haven't reported any problems, seems like whatever fauna is still alive is leaving the region alone." he put his chips aside and glanced over his hand-held computer screen, "The mechanics managed to get most of the defensive turrets up again, mostly thanks to Sully bypassing the site. They think they can salvage the rest of the guns from Site One to have full coverage at the mine, that will, with luck, free up the AMP suits from guard duty."

"Make sure that they have an escort for their salvage mission, we can't afford to lose anyone." she checked her own screen, "Nikolai, on the subject of AMP suits, you said this morning that you had good news?"

"_Da._" the man rumbled, "We have six running at the moment, as we thought we would. But we were able to grab most of the pieces from four more, and we think we can repair them, after a fashion." he shrugged, "They will not be very pretty, I think, but they should work just fine."

"Very good news, keep me updated please. Dr. Patel, reports from your department, how is the move going?"

He did not even need to glance at his own flat-screen, "Still dealing with the wounded, primarily. The last of our gear and research will be transferred over tomorrow. Jake Sully and _Tsahik_ Mo'at will visit Neytiri tomorrow as you allowed, and he at least, will help with the move."

The Administrator leaned forwards, "And what of their tree-goddess then? Think the native life is going to go berserk again?"

"I'm not sure." he admitted, "But I don't think so. Casualties from the battle were... extreme, any more fighting would further disrupt the balance that Eywa seeks to maintain, so I doubt it. Plus, there probably just isn't that many animals still alive in this region."

"The wildlife not attacking is all well and good," Kozlov interjected, "But what of the natives themselves? If they regroup, even without Sully leading them, they could overwhelm us."

"Yes they could, but again, doubtful. The _tsahik_'s don't seem to be experiencing the nightmares anymore, at least at the moment, and again, the losses they sustained were massive. I doubt any of them are eager for a round two."

Thomes ticked something off on her screen, "Send me all the data you have on this 'ay-wa' as soon as you get it tomorrow. If it is more than just a pagan goddess like you say, we need to know everything we can about it."

"Knowing about _her_," he placed a slight emphasis on that, "Won't do you much good. She exists seemingly only to keep a delicate balance of life, as long as you disrupt it as little as possible at this point, there shouldn't be much conflict."

"We didn't do much before!" Selfridge blurted out, "And hell, we were even going to heal what happened before!"

"She.. she does seem to have become less.. impartial," he admitted, "But that also might mean that she can be reasoned with, at least, with the results of the fight clear. I was hoping to speak with Mo'at about heading to the Tree of Souls tomorrow after her visit to see if she can figure out what's going on."

A sigh from their blonde leader, "Very well, do what you have to. I don't like dealing with the blue-skins any more than is necessary, but if you think it is needed for us to stay alive, go ahead. Make sure that Samson gets back."

He nodded, making a note to call Katrina when he got back to their 'room' and inform her of what was going on.

"Moving onto the last item before we adjourn, Selfridge, how are the wounded doing?"

"Most of the walking-wounded are back to doing light work at this point, and we should see the majority of the rest back to work by the end of the month." the Administrator replied.

"Good. I'm heading back up to the _Dream_ tonight to send a message back home, and won't be back down for two days, we'll have our next meeting then to go over Dr. Patel's findings as well as the initial results from the mining teams."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 41: Drunken Ramblings**

Once more, apologies for the pause in between updates. I know it's still much faster than most stories are updated, but people are probably used to nearly daily updates so I feel the need to apologize.

Neytiri has begun the long process of healing, and is already fed up with it. Max & co are now officially working for the UN, we'll see how that plays out for them. And amidst all of this, Parker is still.. well, Parker. Next chapter will show what's going on with Eywa in the aftermath of the fight, and how the mining teams are doing.

The story is getting progressively more difficult to write as it winds down, hope the quality is still as high as everyone says it is, hope you're all still enjoying.

**Please Review!**

**Please Review!**

**Please Review!**

**Review Responses:**

Jadedmagus: glad you like that, i'm trying to keep everyone 'human' instead of the alternative of having them walk on water.

AndreyRus: C++ primarily, though I also work with C# and a few game engine scripting languages.

khaos974: the answer to your question lies in the next chapter, ;).


	46. Chapter 41: Drunken Ramblings

- insert useless disclaimer here -

* * *

**Chapter 41: Drunken Ramblings**

**Date: **13:10, June 8th, 2170

**Location**: Mining Site 02, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The excavators were slowly digging, soil and ore being extracted and pulled into the beds of the massive truck. Mining teams were carefully supervising their machines, occasionally shouting over the noise to speed up part of a process, or slow down another.

He noticed their eyes kept flicking back to the jungle, however, and occasionally towards the mechanics currently hoisting yet another automated turret into the loose ring surrounding the site. Four of the precious AMP suits were currently guarding them while they worked, massive guns pointed towards the trees. Although given that the Russian soldiers currently manning them were, effectively, rookies in their usage, their sight was not as much of a reassurance as they otherwise would have been.

Parker sighed a bit as he watched the work progress. They were on schedule, or at least, as on schedule as they could be, given the circumstances. There had not been any attacks by the natives or any local creatures, but everyone was still jumpy nonetheless.

He knew that he should be setting the example of the cool, calm boss, unfazed by the recent battle, but to be honest with himself, he was just as jumpy as his people. Something made an almost bird-like _caw_ in the distance, and everyone who heard it jumped nearly a foot in the air, eyes darting to the treeline.

Laughing at himself as he rubbed the back of his neck, he felt some of the tension dissipate as the crew he was near began to laugh as well.

"As ya can see boss," his recently promoted foreman gestured to the area as he spoke, "We should have the outer defenses up by tonight, an' that'll free up the AMP team to guard the trucks. Combine it with the main excavator arriving soon, and we should be able to keep ta our primary schedule."

"Assuming there aren't any more native attacks." he pointed out quietly.

The younger man hesitated before nodding. He had been the lead dozer driver before the battle, and he was still unused to his new position

_He'll have to get over that. We're short enough on people as it is, and he's the only one who survived who is even barely qualified for the job._

"You're doing a good job so far Buck." he smiled congenially, "Make sure to send hourly reports and to have your crews back by nightfall."

"I will sir." the other man promised, taking the dismissal for what it was and jogging towards the prefab offices that controlled the site.

Turning away from the mine, Parker began his trek over to one of the soon to depart trucks, intent on hitching a ride back to base.

Overhead, the battered Samson slowly roared away from the base, no doubt carrying Patel to his meeting with the native shaman/matriarch. One of the soldiers assigned to guard their new Chief Scientist waved down at the mining site from his place on the freshly installed door gun, and he waved back as he paused his short walk.

He mused on their objective as he watched the Samson wing away, _Have to admit, for a blue-skin, the old broad wasn't that bad_. _All the same though, _he added sourly within his mind_, Sully is the same love-struck moron as ever. _

The leverage over the native clan that Sully's predictable nature gave them was significant, and both of the scientists were assuring them that the losses sustained in the fight meant that no tribe within several hundred kilometers would be eager at all to fight them.

But he still could not shake the feeling that something was not quite right. _Maybe it's that Eywa thing. Savages worshiping a sentient tree, what the hell is up with this planet?_

It had taken several hours of argument for Patel and Spellman to convince him that there _might_ be something to the native's goddess, and he had to admit, that if there was, then convincing or coercing that... Creature? Tree? Being? Convincing whatever it was that the humans intended to mine, repair, and then leave, with minimal interaction on their part with everything else if it was possible.

_And if that doesn't work, we go with Thomes' solution; threaten to obliterate everything. _What worried him the most was that the native's goddess would try to keep up the fight. They would be receiving some reinforcements, but not many, with the _Comet's Lament_, perhaps fifty or so, mostly civilians. They would not be getting more for seventh months after that.

Arriving at one of the red and orange vehicles, he clambered slowly up the handholds and into the cab, gratefully taking off his exopack after the air had cycled.

"Afternoon' boss." the driver greeted, shifting the massive machine into gear and getting them rolling towards the exist, the other three trucks of the 'convoy' moving into place behind them.

"Good Afternoon." he returned the greeting as he sat down.

The trip back to Tartarus was perfect. Bland, boring, and utterly dull. Nothing tried to eat them, nothing bounced arrows off the cab.

He spent most of the trip chatting inconsequentially with the driver, talking about if or when they were going to resume having football matches.

"I _still_ say we have an American Football game." the driver was arguing as they pulled inside the perimeter, "I bet Kozlov and his guys would love it!"

"But we'd have to teach them all the rules, and where are we going to get the ball and the pads?" he pointed out, "Everyone already knows how to play regular football, maybe we can expand the on-base sports once more people arrive."

With a sigh of defeat the driver nodded his acquiescence, which caused him to smile and clap the man on the shoulder as he dismounted, thanking him for the ride.

Irritatingly sliding his exopack back on, he made his way down to the dirt and gazed around the base for a moment before slowly walking towards the Ops-Center.

_No more meetings today, everything has been set up and organized, and now I have nothing to do but paperwork. Joy._

He sighed as he shuffled towards the building, paperwork was never something he looked forwards to. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**Date**: 13:12, June 8th, 2170

**Location**: En Route _Omaticaya Kelutral_, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Katrina guided the Samson over the mining site as they headed towards the hometree. Their new security escort waved down at the miners below, and Max watched bemusedly as several men paused what they were doing to wave back.

Stretching out as best he could in the copilot's seat, he glanced around, once more amazed at the old ship's transformation. As soon as Katrina had officially joined up, they had swarmed her baby with mechanics, overhauling everything down the bolts on the panels. The odd rattle of the left turbine was gone, the screens were once more brightly lit, and a pair of brand new door guns were mounted on their usual swivel mounts. To top it all off, they had add another pair rigged up where the missile launchers had once been.

All of that and more, and her first words had been, "They didn't get me new _paint_? What the hell is _wrong_ with those grease monkeys!"

The faded and badly chipped olive drab had remained, and she was still finding new ways to complain about it.

_All the complaining aside, it is nice to have access to spare parts that aren't rusted and broken._ _That.. and having humans to relate with again._ He cared greatly for the People, but all the same, at the end of the day, they were Na'vi, he was human. It was nice to be able to talk with people about science and both have them understand it almost immediately, and be able to talk about the subject.

He yawned and got comfortable for the flight, mentally reviewing their to-do list for the day. First, pick up Mo'at so that she could visit Neytiri, Jake was already on his way by _ikran_. After that, head over to the Tree of Souls and see if she could find out what Eywa thought about everything that had happened, before finally taking the elderly _tsahik_ home.

Katrina seemed to be reading his mind, "With luck, we might actually be back at Tartarus by dawn."

"Dawn? We should be so lucky, probably more like lunchtime once all is said and done." he chuckled lightly.

"Think Norm can handle Neytiri all right?"

He paused to consider it, "I think she'll be fine, long as she doesn't try to escape or something. I'm much more worried about her and Jake trying to convince us to let her go back to the hometree, and she's not ready for that, not by a longshot."

A snort from the pilot, "Odds of that are nonexistent my friend. How's being the head-geek been? Haven't been able to see you much last few days."

"Not bad, all things considered." he smiled lightly, "They actually seem to listen to what I say, even Thomes, and not just dismiss it like I expected. They're even talking about getting us a fully functional lab once more reinforcements show up, either that, or maybe refurbishing the one's at Hell's Gate."

Katrina frowned lightly, "Thought they were going to reclaim that base."

He nodded, "They still might, but word from Earth or Terra, whatever they calling it, says to hold off on reclaiming Hell's Gate until they can decide about whether or not to send more scientists. They're still going to patch up the old mine site, but they might turn Hell's Gate into a research outpost."

She smiled again, "Would be nice to have a lab again, dunno how long they're going to have me flying. Probably just until more soldier-types show up, then I'm back to the lab-coats with you two."

"You don't sound disappointed." he noted.

"I'm not." a casual shrug, "I really like flying, but at least in the lab I won't have to worry about things that might want fly up and eat me, my crew, and my entire ship."

Max nodded at that, "Best thing about being at Tartarus, I have to admit, is not worrying about something trying to eat me in my sleep. No more worrying about something breaking into the shack, about an air leak that could asphyxiate me, about finding our own food."

"It _is_ quite nice." she agreed, "How's Norm handling it?"

He paused again, considering how their tall and gawky friend had been handling the transition. "I think he feels the same, mostly. Relief at having so many worries taken away, but he's still a bit unsure about the future. He.. I mean we, dedicated a lot of our lives to the Na'vi, feels almost like we're betraying them, heading to Tartarus, you know?

She sighed and leaned back in her seat as far as she could, "Max, remember what happened these past few years. The _Omaticaya_ didn't want us here. Hell, Jake, our _friend_, barely wanted us here. Personally I'm quite glad to be at Tartarus."

"No regrets?"

A very long pause, before an almost whisper, "No. Just one. Sixteen years ago now. I don't regret helping the Na'vi. I do regret not getting on that shuttle."

He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. She shook herself visibly and turned all of her attention to piloting.

They did not speak for the rest of the trip.

Mo'at was already waiting for them by the time they arrived, nodding to him as she very carefully climbed into the Samson, Katrina barely pausing their flight long enough for the matriarch to shout out her final instructions to the elders in charge while she and Jake were gone.

The Samson tilted as she brought it into a bank, and he heard the two Russians in the back greeting their new passenger, their accents thick.

A light smile graced his face as he heard Mo'at pause before responding, _She's never heard a human that didn't have an American accent._

He pulled on his headset and turned it on so that he could speak with her, "I see you, honored _tsahik_."

"And I you, friend Max." he saw her nod to him through the window behind him. "How is my daughter?"

"She was doing fine when we left, still sleeping most of the time. Norm is watching over her."

"How long until she is well enough to travel?"

He sighed, _So she wants her out of there as well?_ "At least a week. Maybe two." he said firmly.

An expressive sigh came over the comms, "I feared that that was what you would say, though I hoped for better."

"I do worry that she and Jake will not see it that way." he admitted.

"As do I," she replied, "I do not like that my daughter must remain there, healing is best done surrounded by life, but if leaving would cause her to become worse, than I must accept it, and so must they."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, roaring southwards over the trees. The Samson caught up with Jake and his _ikran_ shortly before they reached the base, the colorful flying creature was lazily circling downwards near the edge of the perimeter, and he could see one of the recently repaired AMP suits carefully watching the _olo'eyktan _as he landed.

Katrina was already banking towards the landing pad, and both Jake and the AMP waved in greeting as they passed overhead before resuming their glaring match.

He sighed as they lightly touched down, donning his exopack and hopping out as Mo'at also dismounted, the two soldiers remaining behind with his friend to help run through the post-flight list.

The AMP suit slowly made its way to them as they descended the platform to the ground, the pilot careful to also keep Jake in sight as she did.

Mo'at hissed lightly as the exoskeleton approached, the snarling image of a rabid wolf glaring down at them as the suit slowed and stopped.

"Chief Patel, my orders are to escort you while you are on base, in order to prevent any incidents." the pilot's voice had a slightly clipped tone, as though she was speaking words she very much did not want to.

"Thank you Sergeant," he smiled in what he hoped was a congenial fashion. _Have to keep things calm, _"Let's head over to the Ops-Center then."

The AMP turned lightly and began its lumbering walk to the buildings, Jake slowly falling in next to Mo'at as the three followed the massive suit.

Jake bent over a bit so that he could mutter to Max, "Whose idea was this_?_"

"Thomes, I bet." he replied, then wincing, "And it's probably only a partial insult. There is a very real chance of someone trying to provoke you while you're here, having an AMP on escort duty means that no one will really want to try."

His friend grunted before straightening, Mo'at leaning down to ask questions of her own, "What manner of creature does that image depict? And why place it upon a machine?"

"It's a wolf. Kind of like their world's version of a _nantang_, but covered in hair, only has four legs. Why paint it on there? Same reason our warriors put on warpaint, to lend courage and to inspire fear in the enemy." Jake answered before Max could.

The AMP slowed, taking up a sentry position just outside of the bay, and then motioned for them to head inside.

Opening the door and ducking in, Norm leaped to his feet, "_I see you_, Jake, Mo'at!"

They both returned the greeting before turning to Neytiri, who smiled at them both and murmured greetings of her own that were gladly returned.

Max tapped Norm on the shoulder and the two left to give the three some privacy, settling down inside of the machine shop to wait.

* * *

**Date**: 16:42, June 8th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"_Mother, I can not stand to be here any longer!" _her daughter snarled from her seated position.

She shook her head, irritated. She had barely finished inspecting her daughter, making sure that her wounds were truly healing, before she had begun to complain about having to be within the cold home of the _tawtute_.

"_I do not like you having to remain here to heal, but remain here you must my daughter. We cannot bring their healing machines to our home."_ She watched Neytiri open her mouth to complain once more and cut her off, tone more gentle, "_Toktor Patel believes that you should be ready to be moved in some days time."_

The _olo'eyktan_ shook his head, but stayed silent. Neytiri glared at her mate for a moment before hissing and laying out flat on the bed.

Mo'at felt her tail flick slowly, conveying her exhaustion with the situation. She needed to be here to be healed, so here she would stay, whether she liked it, or not. Her daughter's eyes lowered slightly in shame as she noticed her mother's disapproval.

She reached out and gently touched her daughter's face, "_It will not be long until you are home with the people once more my daughter, be patient._"

Stepping carefully back to the small doorway, she opened it and squeezed through it to give them some privacy before they had to leave.

Nodding respectfully to her two friends, a_nd how strange it is to view sky people as friends _she thought bemusedly, she glanced around the oddly quiet room. All of the massive machines save one were gone, and she saw a pair of _tawtute_ arguing and gesturing near it.

Slowly moving towards the entrance, she glanced outside at the _tawtute_'s home once more, the massive machine next to the door twisting so that its pilot could see her before resuming its guard duty.

_They have changed it so much in so short a time_. So many of the holes in the ground, 'trenches', Jake had called them, had been filled in, others put into new places in their stead. The damage from the fires seemed to have been healed as well.

She glanced at the machine next to her again, and at the snarling image upon its surface. She knew that she could simply ask Max'patel or Norm'spellman her questions, but she knew that the only way to find a balance between the People and the _tawtute_ was to learn more of them.

_As they told me once before, they know everything there is to know about us, yet we know nothing of them._

"Do all _tawtute_ decorate their machines of war so?" she asked quietly.

"What the hell is a taw-toot-a?" the pilot's voice responded, sounding irritated.

It took her a moment to think of the _tawtute_ word for themselves, "A sky person, a human."

There was a long pause, as though the woman was debating about answering or ignoring her, before she responded, "Some do. Most do."

She stood in silence for a while more, gazing at the unnatural field that they had created, before venturing another question. "Why do you fight within that machine?"

"Huh?" this time the pilot turned her monstrosity to face her, the small face of the _tawtute_ woman was barely visible through a small slit, her dark face drawn into a frown.

"Many of our warriors do not think the warriors of the _tawtute_ to be very brave, sheltered as you are within metal." she proceeded to explain.

A mechanical snort, "We have weapons that can tear suits like this open instantly. Hell, we have weapons on Terra that could obliterate this entire base before we realized we were under attack. It takes more bravery to fight battles on Terra than any blue-skin ever had."

Her tail flicked once, angrily. _Blue-skin?_ She slowly calmed herself down before she asked a different question, "What is 'tear-ah'? Max'patel and the others say that you come from a world called Earth."

"Same planet, different name." the pilot shrugged slightly.

"Why change the name of your home?"

"Terra and Earth mean the same thing, just in different languages. Nobodies called it Terra for oh, about two thousand years." the pilot responded, before glancing around the base, "Why are you talking with me anyway? Gotta be something better for you to be doing."

She hesitated a bit at that, before responding truthfully, "I am trying to learn more about your people."

"Why?" the woman asked bluntly.

"Because I wish for the fighting to stop, I have seen enough death in my lifetime."

There was a long pause at that, before the _tawtute_ responded, "I lost a lot of friends in the battle. I don't like you, and I never will. But I can understand that bit at least." the machine turned away from her, the pilot once more resuming her sentinel gazing.

The elderly matriarch glanced at the machine one last time before turning and heading back into the cool structure. The noise level had picked up, the two _tawtute_ at the far end were doing something with the walking machine there, sparks flying like water from their small machines as they worked.

Jake had apparently finished speaking with Neytiri, and was now engaged in quietly talking with Max'patel. She moved softly over to them, listening as she did.

"-still don't see how you guys can stay here." the _olo'eyktan_ was saying.

"Jake, we've been over this, we don't have much of a choice." from the weary tone in Max's voice, it had been something that the _toktor_ had said many times before, "We can't stay at the hometree, you know that, and Kat is sick of living like we have been."

Norm took over at this point, "And we can't eat without a pilot for the Samson, besides, from here we can actually do some good. Thomes might be a bit of a bitch, but she's an intelligent one, and Selfridge can be reasoned with at least."

Her daughter's mate shook his head but nodded, "Fine. But don't hesitate to call John on the radio all right? I want to know the instant they do something against their word."

"We will, don't worry." Max promised before turning to her, "_Tsahik. _Ready to leave?"

She nodded, "Let me speak once more with my daughter and then we may depart."

* * *

**Date**: 22:22, June 8th, 2170

**Location**: Tree of Souls, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Max sighed, sitting in the Samson and glancing across the deep well to where Mo'at sat, head thrown back in concentration as she joined with Eywa. Katrina was stretched out in her pilot's chair, head bowed as she napped. The two soldiers chatted in Russian as they played cards behind him.

They had been there for an hour already, and he had every reason to expect that it would once more take hours for the _tsahik_ to interpret the mind and will of her goddess, and attempt to convince her to accept the humans and their promises.

Running a hand absently through his hair, then promptly swearing to himself as he realized what he had done, he hopped out of the helicopter and began to slowly walk around the well.

It looked as it always did at night, moss softly glowing, somehow complementing the soft color emitted from the tree itself. He was reminded of the ancient cathedrals in France that he had once visited, back when he was a grad student. The same sense of calm acceptance, the same quiet strength, pervaded here as it had done there.

Bending over to examine an interesting flower that was growing along the edge of the well, he jumped slightly when he heard Mo'at suddenly shout something.

Whipping around, he blinked as she violently tore herself from the tree, snarling in pain as she did so, before backing rapidly away from the tree and beginning to shake.

He raced over to her, glancing at the soldiers who had already leaped from the Samson and were glancing around nervously, "You two, get over here and help!"

They started, one said something in Russian to the other, and both began to run over.

"Mo'at, are you all right, what happened?" he grabbed her arm gently, trying to steady her. She shook her head slowly, gasping and panting for breath, body still shaking violently. The two Russians arrived and helped him carefully lower the very heavy woman to the ground, one of them pulling his canteen out and gently handing it to her.

She gratefully took the small container and drank, silently gulping deep breaths of air afterwords, before she finally responded, "Eywa.. is in deep pain... The deaths of so many.. she cannot think of anything but the pain of their parting. She is screaming with the agony of it."

_That.. does not sound good._ "Do you think.. do you think she's going to continue to fight?" he asked quietly.

"I.. I do not.. know." she panted, drinking once more, "I don not.. I do not believe so, not if this is the pain she must bear for such battles."

"But you do not know." one of the soldiers said quietly, accepting the empty canteen back, "Perhaps this shall enrage her further."

Mo'at glanced at the ground, seemingly considering her next words with care. "Perhaps.. in a few days time, I may try to speak with her again, and perhaps the Great Mother will be accepting then."

_Great. This is not what I was hoping to hear at all_, he sighed, "Ok. Neytiri should be ready to head back in about eight or nine days, maybe we can try again then? If you think she isn't over it though, I don't want you to try if it's going to hurt you."

This drew him a haughty glance from the elder woman, "My daughter suffers in pain, as does Eywa her self. I can bear whatever pain I must."

Nodding slowly to her, he slowly rose, "All the same, let's get you home so you can rest."

"I doubt that I shall rest much this night, the tribe must be told of her pain, and prayers must be said to ease it as best we are able."

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 42: Uncertain Intentions**

So, I got the new version of Avatar today, and must say I'm overall disappointed in the actual extended version, but massively amused by all of the deleted scenes (where, in one of them, Parker shuts down the Avatar program, so hell yes, I called it! :) ). I also deeply liked the addition of showing the burning dozers and killed security guys.

Anyways, here's the next chapter of my tale, turned out a bit longer than I expected to be honest, hope everyone keeps enjoying. In the next chapter we'll keep an eye on the na'vi-human relations, as well as comparing what Neytiri thinks of the humans to what her mother does.

**Please Review!**


	47. Chapter 42: Uncertain Intentions

- Your brain tells you that a disclaimer is here -

* * *

**Chapter 42: Uncertain Intentions**

**Date**: 14:55 June 11th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The _tawtute_ were driving her _insane_.

She was no longer trapped on the strange bed, her body being healed enough that she could walk, carefully, around. Max had encouraged her to do so, saying that the more she walked around on her own, the more used to balancing her body she would be.

That had been a moment of joy for her.. until she had realized that the _tawtute_ were not about to let her move about their home no her own; one of their _vrrtep _walking machines had been following her around ever since she had slowly left the room she had been trapped in for far too long.

What made it even worse was how weak her body still was.

_I cannot even escape from this lumbering contraption!_ She hissed to herself as she carefully limped around the base, the thundering machine following her easily.

The _tawtute_'s home was just as lifeless as it had been during the battle, drab buildings dominated the scenery, lifeless stone covered much of the ground. It was utterly unnatural, with the only signs of life being the _tawtute _themselves, bustling about doing unfathomable things with their machinery.

Her lips curled back as several of the massive 'trucks' entered the base from the south, the back of each filled with the useless gray rocks that they coveted so much. She stopped walking so that she could observe the _tawtute_ work. The trucks moving up to a row of other machines which swiftly began to unload the stone, dumping it into ordered piles, more machines were already being dragged over, _tawtute_ using the noisy things to hammer and break the rocks apart.

Shaking her head, she resumed her slow limp around the large building, her 'escort' following slowly behind her.

Holding her arms out lightly for balance occasionally, she kept doing laps around the building, each becoming more difficult than the last as her injured body began to betray her will.

After perhaps five times around the building her body informed her that it had reached the end of its ability to move her, and panting, she leaned against the cold stone of the building.

She heard a metallic sigh behind her, "Please tell me I don't have to carry you back."

"Why don't you just go _away_." the _tsahik_ in training hissed back.

A snort, "Wish I could, but the Captain was quite insistent that you not wander around alone. Now," the pilot leaned her massive machine down, staring at her through the glass, "Do I have to pick you up and carry you over my shoulder like a little child?"

Ignoring the _tawtute_ woman, she stumbled slowly along the building, heading back to 'her' room.

She made it five steps before her left leg gave out from under her.

Throwing her arms out to catch herself, she let out a surprised grunt as a metal hand shot under her and caught her roughly before she landed.

"Honestly." the pilot's voice was disgusted, the ground gave away beneath her as the mechanical contraption hauled upwards.

Hissing, she tried to wiggle free, only for the fingers to curl tighter around her.

She grunted slightly in pain and glared to her left at the pilot, "_Put me down moron!"_

"I don't speak your language blue-skin." the pilot grunted, "Now shut up and stay still."

Struggling a bit for another moment, she was forced to admit defeat, exhaustion once more overwhelming her as the machine began to move, lumbering slowly around the building.

It did not take the machine long to reach the room, and a burst of laughter caused her to raise her eyes and glare at the _tawtute _leader who was apparently waiting for them.

"Have a bit of trouble walking dear?" the _tawtute_ leader was still shaking with laughter.

She hissed at her softly, the pilot chuckling as the suit moved past, arm lowering her towards the floor near the door.

"Sorry, can't open the door for ya. Have to do that yourself." the pilot was still chuckling as it set her on the floor.

Shakily standing, she haughty opened the door and slowly staggered in. The _tawtute _leader, Thomes she thought her name was, followed her in as the thundering footfalls of the machine faded away.

"Seems you can move, after a fashion now." there was still traces of laughter in the woman's tone as Neytiri crawled slowly into the bed, its strange material suddenly comforting to her aching muscles.

Taking the time to settle in, she glared at the much smaller woman as she answered, "Why are you bothering me?"

The thin hair above one of the _tawtute_'s eyes rose slightly, "Bothering you? I am merely checking up on you. The sooner you're gone, the happier everyone will be."

There was a long period of silence before she realized that Thomes was apparently awaiting a response of some kind, "_Toktor _Patel says that I should be able to return to the _kelutral_ in a few days time."

The woman grunted shortly, "I'm guessing that means your big damned tree house. That's good." she cocked her head, strange yellow hair falling across her face as she did, "That reminds me. Patel and Spellman are on an expedition to Hell's Gate to look the place over, try not to leave the room tonight, eh?"

"Why would I want to?" she snapped.

"I don't know, maybe you suddenly fancy another walk?" the woman shrugged before smirking slightly, "I'll make sure that there's an AMP waiting to carry you back again."

She snarled at the woman who merely laughed as she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Muttering curses against the irritating _tawtute_, she attempted to get comfortable and found herself beginning to drowsily drift towards sleep.

_It will be nice to once more be embraced by my mate and welcomed by the clan._ She mused slowly as she prepared to rest her aching body, _And to be away from these sky people and their machines. _

Sleep claimed her as she imagined her mate's arms wrapped around her.

* * *

**Date**: 15:12 June 11th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"You had to _carry_ her?" Parker managed to choke out through his laughter as he listened to Sergeant Major Milana tell her story of what had happened with the native earlier in the day.

"Yep." The senior remaining American engineer chuckled, "The idiot pushed herself way too hard, collapsed on the wrong side of the building. Had to grab her before she hit the ground, no sense letting the doc's work go to waste, then carry her back. Look on the blue-skin's face was priceless, I should have brought a camera."

Laughter echoed through the commissary as everyone within earshot listened in.

Several off-duty miners and soldiers were enjoying a late lunch, as was he. Nominally, he was supposed to have gone with to Hell's Gate to get a more complete overview of the old base to send back to Terra, but in actuality, Kozlov was already going with the geeks, and Thomes wanted to head back up to the _Dream_ later in the day to supervise moving the rest of the wounded to the surface, so he had stayed behind to ensure that at least one head of department remained.

One of the miners leaned in eagerly, "Administrator, you think we can have a football game tonight? I mean, since everything seems to have calmed down a bit?"

He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the younger man, "And who would play? Russians vs Miners?"

Several people nodded eagerly, "The games were always good, and it would help people relax wouldn't it?"

"It would." he allowed, thinking it over. To be honest, he had been planning on having a game sometime within the next week, once they were sure that everything was going to stay calm.

_On the other hand, maybe a game _would _speed up the morale recovery process._ "It'll have to be a night game." he said finally, "After the expedition gets back from Hell's Gate."

Cheers quickly resounded through the cafeteria, the soldiers and miners both quickly jeering an taunting each other good naturedly as they resumed eating.

Smiling as everyone began to talk excitedly about what was now going to happen at night, he rose from his seat and tossed the remains of his lunch before heading out towards the Ops-Center.

There honestly was not that much for him to do at the moment, he was, for a miracle, actually caught up on most of the basic paperwork that came with managing a base, and the mining teams were currently working just fine on their own, no need for him to head over to the mining site and check things out.

Bereft of anything meaningful to do, he settled for heading for the main holotable and manipulating the image to show various local regions.

"Jesus Christ." he muttered, as the image of the former blue-skin home appeared in front of him. Most of the region was already overgrown with plants again, the massive hulk of the fallen tree was barely visible under the weight of moss and small trees that had begun to grow.

"It's going to take weeks to clear that." with a sigh he shook his head and began to go over other local sites for potential mining locations. The Hell's Gate mine had been nearing the end of its operational life. There was still ore there, but not a massive amount.

_Maybe if we do reactivate Hell's Gate, we can finish mining that lode before we reclaim the area._ The blue-skins probably would not like it.

_But only the Beta site really has any appreciable amount left, we could reclaim the other two while finishing up the old operation there. _He mused. _That should keep them calm enough._

Nodding to himself, he brought up the base's mail program to send his thoughts to Thomes, and fired off the message.

Sighing, he leaned back and away from the holotable, electing to head to his office and complete what paperwork still remained.

_Routine, thus boredom. I suppose it's a good thing, at least things aren't trying to kill us anymore._

Sitting heavily into his posh chair, he was surprised to see a notification from Thomes already waiting for him on his personal terminal. A quick touch of his finger tips opened the text file.

_Re: Possible Resumption of Mining_

_Pending the report from Kozlov and Patel regarding recolonization of Hell's Gate, your plan is approved. Attached is the most recent update from Terra concerning what materials will be arriving on the inbound ISV's. Please add any material necessary for the resumption of mining at Hell's Gate - Site Beta, to the final portion of the list._

_Additional News: Severe fighting has broken out in SE Asia, possible resumption of hostilities between India/Pakistan as well as Korea/China believed to be possible. European and American troops withdrawing from those areas, UN plans to let the wars run their course while preventing any global spread of the conflicts._

_Forwarded Information:_

_2 Months: ISV Comet's Lament: Main excavation equipment, refinery equipment, 2 squads military personnel, forty civilians to operate equipment._

_9 Months: ISV Terran Winter: Primary STG plant, one company military personnel (NAU), fifty civilians, ammunition_

_16 Months: ISV Eye of Sirius: Dragon Gunship, 2 squadrons Samson tiltorotor craft, personnel (EU) and pilots, spare parts, ammunition_

_28 Months: ISV Venture Star: 1 squadron Samson, 1 squadron Scorpion, military pilots (EU) additional mining gear, spare parts, medical supplies_

_40 Months: ISV Wings of Hermes: replacement military/civilian personnel, spare parts, medical supplies_

_Note: Considering losses, reinforcements, not replacements_

_52 Months: ISV Explorer's Hope: replacement military/civilian personnel, spare parts, medical supplies; Convert to additional Station above moon Heracles when complete._

_Note: Considering losses, reinforcements, not replacements_

_After Completion: ISV Neptune's Twilight – Pandora_

_Outline of Colonial Program: Three ISCV's currently under construction using remaining unobtanium stores: Atlantic Storm, Pacific Horizon, Arctic Wind_: _beginning colonization plans outlined for Epsilon Eridani System, Heracles moon Alpha Centauri system_

_End Message_

He frowned at the list. They had rushed the launches of nearly all of the ISV's, which was good for them, it meant that they would be getting their replacement gear and people that much faster, seven months apart instead of the typical twelve.

The problem was that there weren't enough ISV's to keep up that rate, even with the planned construction. He had no idea when the _Neptune_ would be complete, but the knowledge that they hadn't named a date for it's arrival sent ripple of worry through him. There very well could be a several year gap in between the _Hope_ and it.

_That's going to be a long time alone here._

Another thought struck him. _I know they want to return to the once a year schedule, that means that the ISV's here will have to _stay _here for a year to get the schedule back on track. We'll have the option to get the hell out of here if things go bad!_

The though cheered him up immensely, though the last few lines brought more confusion.

_Heracles_.. he frowned before checking to see if he was right. The largest moon of Polyphemus, it lay well beyond the radiation fields that plagued Pandora. Though its atmosphere was thin, it was roughly the size of Venus, thus also avoiding Pandora's low gravity problems. It had been labeled for possible colonization and exploration but the discovery of unobtanium on Pandora had killed the RDA's plans to detail an ISV to the outer moon.

_Looks like they're really pushing the colonial program_.

Shaking himself out of his musings, he got to work detailing what mining gear would be needed to resume mining at their old site.

* * *

**Date**: 17:22 June 11th, 2170

**Location**: Hell's Gate, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"This place is going to need a lot of work." Norm said quietly as they looked around what had been their labs.

Vines, shrubs, flowers, all were growing through the computer panels, and a tree had broken through the ceiling.

Their Russian escort chuckled slowly, "That is a great understatement."

Max grunted softly. _And to think, this is one of the _least _damaged rooms. _The refinery and power plants were both gone, as was the old STG plant. The living quarters and Ops-Center were both overgrown, but not as badly as the laboratory complex.

_And the Armory block is still standing_. That, more than anything, gave him what he thought he needed to convince both the Captain and the UN leadership back on Earth. The massive building could easily still be used for military purposes, and was still airtight, meaning that they could house workers there while they worked on fixing up the place.

He typed a few notes into his hand-held pad, nodding to himself. "A lot of work, yes, but easier than building an entirely new facility at Tartarus."

Kozlov turned, frowning at him, "Even with all the materials we removed?"

"Yep. A lot of what you guys pulled out of here was junk anyway, and there's still plenty of it at Tartarus if we need it." he glanced around as they walked back into the hallway, heading for the tunnel, "More good news is that all these tunnels are still intact, doesn't seem that Pandoran life enjoys being underground much."

"They do not." Absolute certainty from the Russian, "What reports we received from Site 01 during the battle indicated that both the native creatures and the blue-skins did not fight well in the tunnels there, and fought even worse when the lighting system went out. Their night vision is far too reliant upon the glowing life here."

Max nodded slowly at that, "I kind of expected that. Humans night vision sucks, but the Na'vi's is even worse in actual darkness. Polyphemus up there hasn't helped their evolution at all."

Emerging into the old Ops-Center, they headed for the airlock and the Samson waiting outside.

"At least there aren't many animals living in here." Norm murmured quietly as they strode into the sunlight.

"Mostly stingbats." Kozlov rumbled, "My people found a few viperwolf tracks, but no sign of them."

"Probably killed during the battle." he said quietly, sighing, "Lot of animals died, going to take years for the balance to be restored around here."

"If it ever does." Norm pointed out, voice just as despondent, "A lot of the prey animals here breed like rabbits, especially Tapirus and _yerik_. Overgrazing could happen real fast in this region."

He winced slightly at that. "That's true. The Na'vi will have plenty of prey at least, maybe that will help." He did not really believe it, but it was something at least.

_Eywa really screwed this one up_. He thought almost bitterly, _She'll be lucky to have healed the damage in a decade, if not more. _

It was hard not to be a bit bitter towards the goddess at the moment, considering everything that had happened, everything he had done to try and stop the fight, knowing what was going to happen, only to have the Na'vi goddess huff and ignore him, sending thousands of people and animals to their deaths.

_And now she's in some kind of coma and can't be spoken to, which is severely freaking the Na'vi out_. Returning Mo'at to the _Omaticaya_ had not gone well once she broke the news to the people about _Eywa_. Many had broken down into tears, several of the youths had been enraged, still blaming the humans. Mo'at had dealt with the former, and Jake had tried to knock sense into the latter.

Max still worried about that last part a bit. None of the warriors who had fought in the battle wanted anything to do with the humans, and the adults and elders who had not fought heartily agreed with the veterans after seeing the wounded and hearing their screams.

The youths on the other hand.. many of them blamed the warriors and hunters for the failure, believing that if they had simply fought harder, with more bravery, they would have won easily. It was a very human reaction, and one that Jake obviously recognized from his time in the Marines.

That had not made it any easier on him, and his friend had confided in Max just before he left that his patience was starting to wear very thin with his own son, the leader of the 'Youth-Movement'.

"I thought I taught him better than this." Jake had snarled, "He was talking yesterday about how when he's the _Olo_'_eyktan_ that he'll make sure that the_ tawtute_ are defeated once and for all. All of us adults are ignoring them, but a lot of the kids are listening."

"You need to calm him down somehow Jake," he remembered his response, "The humans are banged up, but they got a lot of their hardware back online, and the clan is in no shape to deal with a Valkyrie offloading a dozen AMP suits right into your front door."

"I know dammit." His tail thrashing, Jake had bid him goodbye, stalking alone into the jungle to cool down and think.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and shook off the unpleasant memories as they made their way over to the waiting Samson.

Katrina broke the mutually gloomy mood instantly, her grin vibrant as she exclaimed, "There's going to be a football game tonight, just heard it on the radio! The mining teams are challenging your soldier boys and girls Kozlov!"

The big Russian broke into a grin of his own, "Good! Very good! We shall bury the fools!"

The other soldiers with laughed and cheered at the news, eagerly clambering into the Samson, talking excitedly about who would be playing.

Max and Norm blinked and looked at each other as they too climbed in.

"American Football or just Football?" Norm managed to interject.

"_Real_ football." one of the door-gunners assured him through his thick accent, "We have field in junkyard. Play at night, all lit up! Glorious game!"

The two scientists shook their heads as the Samson tilted forwards, roaring into the air.

"You really think this is a good time for a game?" Norm asked Kozlov next to him.

"_Da!_ Only time. Remind us that we are alive!" the Captain grinned at him.

Max smiled and leaned back before noticing something, one of the soldiers was holding tightly to a large bag, one that he had not seen them bring with.

He frowned at it, causing the soldier to smile at him, her voice carrying across, "A gift for Administrator. He laments often about it."

It took his brain a few seconds to work out what was in it, and he snorted.

_Of all the things to survive fifteen years in a jungle-overrun base..._

* * *

**Next up is Chapter 43: Calm Skies**

Sorry about the long-ish delay on this chapter everyone, had a hard time finding the motivation until this morning, when I just started banging away and it all just flowed nicely.

Everything is starting to calm down a bit, though there's still a bit of discontent around. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as everyone has liked the previous ones. Saw a bit of Neytiri, who isn't nearly as open minded as her mother is, as well as showing Parker and Max both working towards the future of humanity on the moon. Next chapter will show a bit more of the na'vi-human relationship as well as finalize the human and na'vi plans about what the future holds.

Building up towards the finish line for this fanfic, and yes, I am going to do a sequel, currently working on an outline and a prequel for it, working title will be Semper Furor. Considered continuing this one longer, but I think it's about long enough, and expanding it more doesn't 'feel' right, ya know? Want it to be a tight, solid story on its own.

Expect Act III to be quality controlled soon, probably in time with the next chapter, I'll try to get the rest of the story up-to-date and grammatically correct by next week.

**Loving the Reviews, so...**

**KEEP REVIEWING PLEASE!**

**Review Responses:**

TopKat90: I actually have cat, she helps me write. By 'help', I mean sit in my lap and occasionally walk across the keyboard when she's annoyed. Glad that you like the story and my take on things, even if it isn't quite your cup of tea. I enjoy stories that focus on realism and that's a bit of what I was aiming for here. I hope you do finish reading the story, and that you give the sequel a try. You can always just skip the darker chaps if ya want :).

Wired Dragon: I ran with the assumption that the continent they're on was fairly well populated by the Na'vi, and that most of them had been called by Eywa to the fight. I used to agree with you on Sully, but some of the deleted scenes from the film softened by attitude a bit. He's not the brightest man in the world, but I understand him a bit better. Expect his attitude to start improving now, with Neytiri being healed and his son acting up.

Will of the Emperor: Glad you liked it! I'm trying to weed out those errors as I said above, hopefully they'll all be fixed soon.


	48. Chapter 43: Calm Skies

**- **Your brain is informing you that a disclaimer is printed here -**  
**

* * *

**Chapter 43: Calm Skies**

**Date: **20:42, June 11th, 2170

**Location:** Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Come on Neytiri, we're going to be late!"

She blinked confusedly at Norm as he rushed around the room, tossing his pack aside, grabbing several of the strange, clear containers that held water.

Carefully propping herself up, she continued to gaze confusedly at her _tawtute_ friend, "Where are we going?"

"They're having a soccer game!" the scientist was positively radiating excitement, "I haven't seen one since.." a long pause, as though he was counting in his head, "Three years before I left Earth."

"What is a sock-er game?" confusion was still running through her mind. That the _tawtute_ intended to play a game startled her slightly, and Norm's enthusiasm was even more startling.

He blinked at her before glancing at one of the glowing machines and giving a start, "Come on! I'll explain on the way."

Slowly standing, she ambled after him. The long sleep in the afternoon had done much to erase the exhaustion from the morning, but she wanted to make sure that she did not fall again. One humiliation this day was more than enough.

Max'patel was waiting outside, gazing into the _tawtute_'s graveyard of machines and metal. She could see numerous other figures moving rapidly in that direction, and the harsh, artificial lights that they favored so much were already illuminating that area.

She carefully followed Norm as he eagerly moved in that direction, keeping up a running commentary concerning the rules of the 'game' as he did so.

More pressing questions were on her mind, however, and Norm's chatter was quietly tuned out as she leaned down to speak to Max.

"Why must I come to this? Many _tawtute_ will be there, and I will not be welcome."

Max smiled slightly, "You'll be fine. Selfridge said you can come, and he made sure that everyone knows not to mess with you. If anyone tries, feel free to hit them." he paused, "Not that hard though."

"As long as they leave me alone, I shall not strike them." she straightened again, adding with a hiss, "But they must leave me alone first."

"They should." the _toktor_ promised, "Everyone will be more concerned about the game anyway."

_The game. Strange that sky people play games._ It was not something she had ever pictured them doing.

She tried to pay closer attention to what Norm was saying about the rules and how it was played. By the time they reached the first metal corpses, she thought she had a basic idea of the very odd game. It did not take long to traverse the mounds of decaying machines to reach a large, flat field illuminated by light.

_Tawtute_ were crowded along the edges, more still were sitting atop the wrecked machines and piles of metal, talking animatedly and gesturing at the dirt field, where two groups of _tawtute_ were huddled together, apparently speaking to one another. One group was wearing entirely bright orange, the other the strange patterns that their warriors favored.

The leader, Self-ridge, the one her Jake disliked intensely, was with the group clad in orange, and was gesturing and speaking rather animatedly.

Norm led her and Max to the remains of one of the massive _kunsips_, climbing easily up its side, the three carefully sat and gazed at the field.

Many of the nearby _tawtute _gave her silent glares, but their attention was always swiftly drawn back to the playing field.

She frowned, tail twitching unconsciously as the _tawtute_ moved out from their balls of conversation and began to take up places on the field, their leaders moving to the sides, taking up spots near the few players who had also moved off.

With a sharp whistling noise, the game began.

It was the strangest game she had ever seen.

The people had games, of course. Children attempted to catch each other's tails while racing through the boughs of their _kelutral_. Warriors and hunters held contests of strength and archery, and occasionally they held races to prepare for the great _Talioang _hunts.

Nothing like what the _tawtute_ were playing. The purpose of the game seemed to be to kick the small ball into the 'goal', which was easy enough to understand. That only one player on each team could apparently use their hands was odd, but understandable. The size of their playing field, on the other hand..

_How many trees and life was destroyed so that they could play their game?_ She though irritably.

The crowd of _tawtute_, however, seemed extremely interested in what was happening, shouting, cursing, cheering as the ball moved swiftly around the field, the cheering growing exceptional when one team, the one comprised of warriors, managed to score.

And the game droned on. And on. And on.

_Do they never cease?_ She had to admit, she was beginning to become confused at the longevity of the game, _Are they not exhausted from so much running about?_

Shortly after the 'mining' team managed to score, the sharp whistling sound again cut through the roar of noise that the _tawtute_ were somehow managing to create, and the players moved off the field.

"Are they finished then?" she turned to Max.

"Finished?" he blinked at her, "It's only halftime, half-way done."

She felt her draw drop slightly, "Half-way?"

"Yeah, they take a quick breather and get water half-way through, then resume playing." Even as he spoke, she saw the players carefully guzzling water from the strange containers that the _tawtute_ seemed to love as their leaders spoke to them.

"The same ones?" _Surely not!_

"Of course. They're using the official rules, so they can change out three people if they want to, but everyone else plays the whole game." The _toktor _seemed to think that perfectly normal.

Spilling back onto the field, the players once more took up their positions and the game began again.

Her interest, however, was no longer upon the field itself, "How do they run for so long, without becoming tired?"

"They _are_ tired, believe me, football is a pretty intense sport. We're not as tired as say, a Na'vi would be. Our bodies are better built for endurance than yours are."

She blinked a bit at that, causing her friend to continue, "Our species originally came from the savannah of our homeworld, we killed prey by _chasing _it until it was too exhausted to fight back."

A nagging thought clicked within her mind, "That is why your warriors still had strength at the end of the battle, when our hunters had succumbed to their exhaustion."

Max winced and nodded grimly.

That small mystery solved, she settled back into place atop the cold metal skeleton and watched the game continue through half lidded eyes. Her mind was not focused upon her eyes, however, but instead was quietly contemplating what else about the _tawtute_ was beyond her.

_And what among that hidden knowledge can be used against the people? What weaknesses do the sky people have that we do not yet know? _Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought, not even paying attention when a goal was scored, Max and Norm hollering and cheering from beside her.

Some great time later, after they had left the field of dead machines and she was once more wrapped in the strange cloths of the _tawtute_, her mind was still pondering what questions she would ask her Jake when she returned to the _Omaticaya_.

* * *

**Date**: 07:15, June 12th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Everyone in the Ops-Center was bleary eyed and slow moving, noise was being kept to a minimum as the hang-overs from the night before were slowly being worked out of their systems.

That did not, however, stop everyone in the mining division from grinning like maniacs whenever they glanced outside and saw Kozlov running his people through their morning drills.

Parker was grinning just as foolishly as his people, grin becoming even wider when he glanced at the precious leather bag sitting next to his desk. The Russian Lieutenant who had found them the day before at Hell's Gate had admitted that she had wanted to give them to him as a consolation prize for losing the game, but she might as well make his night perfect since the Russians had lost the game.

He had been struck speechless by the sight of his clubs, he had thought them lost forever.

Now they were waiting patiently next to his desk, the very sight of them causing him to remember the few good days at Hell's Gate, competing with Quaritch for the best line drive or impromptu putting sessions.

_Of course, that was before Miles started to really lose it_. He admitted. The nostalgic memories of the first few years of Hell's Gate quickly washed from his mind as the recollections of the increasingly stressful, increasingly desperate last few months arose and swallowed them.

The very first thing he had done upon waking was send a memo to the few remaining engineers, asking if any of them could find some kind of artificial turf so that he could, at least, practice his putts with the sole golf ball that was nestled safely within the bag.

Plotting out how much he was going to enjoy being able to golf once more was cut short as a message from Thomes flashed into existence in his inbox.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and idly tapped the 'Read' button.

_From: Explorer's Dream – Thomes, Maria, Cptn_

_To: Tartarus Command – Selfridge, Parker, Admstr_

_Though I am glad to see that you have taken some initiative with the football game, it would have been more pleasant had you waited for both myself and my crew to be able to partake in such activity. I hope that the increasingly small store of alcohol has not been destroyed by the parties that no doubt occurred last night, and that operations are continuing on schedule this morning. _

_News from Earth: Our plans regarding Hell's Gate have been approved, as have the supplies you requested. _

_Concerning the wounded: The final group of wounded will be heading down with me._

_Concerning the natives: Will the blue-skin be leaving on schedule?_

_- end message_

With another sigh, he quickly typed up an apologetic response, assuring her that there was enough of their illicit liquid to have one more after-game party, that there would, of course, be more football games, and that, as far as he knew, the native princess was still going to be leaving them soon.

Yawning and stretching he rose and padded into the main Ops-Center, glancing at the main holo-table as he did so.

_Good to see that the mining teams are already at work_. The current three-dimensional image showed the mining site, the equipment's symbols registering that they were being brought online even as he watched. He had been a little hesitant to put Buck in place as his new foreman, but the man had proven capable, if only a little hesitant at his new job.

_If only he wouldn't wear those bizarre fleece jackets and blue-jeans everyday. Then again, if we don't let a little individualism in, are we any better than the blue-skins?_ He smiled a bit at the last, making a mental note to make sure that everyone knew that uniform regulations would be lowered slightly in the coming weeks.

"Morning Administrator." the communications officer nodded to him.

"Good morning Lieutenant, and thank you once more for finding my clubs." he beamed at her.

The Russian woman smiled, "Not a problem sir. If you would please lose the next football game in payment, however, that would be most pleasant."

He laughed at that, "And break our undefeated streak? Never."

She smiled dutifully and returned to directing the AMP suits as they ran through an exercise near the perimeter.

Smiling a bit, he slowly manipulated the main holotable away from the mining site to the ruins of Hell's Gate. Though Thomes had not told him to begin the planning to recolonize the area, it was better than going over mining reports yet again.

He had been at it for several hours, and debating with Kozlov over the radio over the defensive set-up they were going to use at the old base, when Patel arrived.

"I'm telling you, strictly sentry guns won't be enough, not for the size of the base. We'll need to base at least one of the arriving squadrons there, and maybe a company of troops." he insisted to Kozlov, nodding to Patel as he maneuvered his way through the stations to the holotable.

"I dislike spreading our air power out," the Russian shot back, "It would be better to keep all of our aerial assets here, where they will be better protected and from where they can operate in massed force."

"It's only a two hour flight." he sighed, "We'll go over this again when Thomes arrives, I have a meeting with Patel now."

Kozlov, no doubt in a doubly foul mood now, cut the line without a goodbye.

Shaking his head, he turned to Patel, "I hope you're not here for an argument."

The darker skinned man shook his head, "Just here to go over the plans about the science wing at Hell's Gate."

Nodding, Parker brought up the old lab schematics, "Did you want them set up as they were, or a full remodel?"

"Partial." The other man, once younger, now older, _And how odd is _that _to think about?_, began to outline his plans, "We don't need the link room or the Avatar chambers anymore, so we can turn those into additional lab space, or maybe into living quarters. We can probably leave the old decanting chambers open to the local air and turn it into a flora lab, that will save at least some modifications."

"What about the old cabin and field?" he pointed to the utterly overgrown and totally useless Avatar training area.

"Probably turn it into a farming area, there's a few plants that humans can eat, we can use them to supplement our rations." the good doctor explained easily.

After spending several more hours going over the details with Patel, and after he had left to go check on his precious blue-skin, he made his way down to the cafeteria for lunch.

The smell coming from the kitchen almost made him turn back.

He sighed, _Burnt tapirus meat. Lovely. Maybe there's some soup left._ Without much hope, he forced his body to take him into the cafeteria. Though they did have plenty of rations now that the base's population was a mere third of what it had been, the cooks still insisted on using local 'supplies' whenever possible to stretch the human food longer.

_The Lament had better be carrying plenty of _good _food aboard, so that we don't have to put up with this. Maybe I should come down on those punks back in the kitchen, h_e thought bitterly to himself as he joined the line.

* * *

**Date**: 13:36, June 12th, 2170

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"As long as your wounds don't open up and you can walk around on your own, yes, you'll be able to leave in two days." he promised Neytiri as she slowly and carefully paced around the AMP suit bay.

As soon as he had arrived, Norm had gratefully directed Neytiri's irritation away from himself and _to _him, though Max had to admit, that had he been stuck with an annoyed, woundedwarrior all morning, he would have tried to direct her anger elsewhere as well.

"And how will I return to the _kelutral_? _Ikran?_" she demanded.

_She's in a demanding mood lately. _"_Pa'li_. Don't try flying for a few weeks yet, stick to the ground please, unless you really want to go back up to the stars so they can heal you again."

She hissed quietly but nodded.

He tried to cheer her up a bit, "Jake and Peyral will both be here to go back with you, they headed out this morning so that they'll be here in time."

A small smile graced her lips at that, "I have heard little of Peyral, how does her arm fare?"

"She'll heal up nicely, even if she is just as bad as you are about actually listening to the advice I gave her." the headstrong hunter had attempted to use her bow not long after he had stitched and bandaged her wounds, promptly requiring him to do all of his work over again.

The image of Mo'at fiercely scolding the woman as he worked made him smile a little.

"And what news of my son? Does he do well in my absence?"

_And just like that, the good mood is gone._ "I suppose." he allowed, "I know that he and your mate disagree on the future of the clan, many of the youths do."

The future _tsahik_ hissed softly, tail flicking angrily back and forth, "_Sxkwang_." she took a moment to glare at the sight of several AMP suits pounding across the ground in the distance, apparently doing some form of drill, "Both of them. Perhaps I shall tie their tails together until they cease their bickering."

Norm snorted a bit at that, and even he had to smile.

"And of my mother?" Neytiri continued after turning away from the outdoors and striding slowly to her room.

"She is well, or as well as she can be considering." he grimaced a bit at that, "She and the other elders are very shaken up by Eywa at the moment."

The three fell into silence as they entered the small room, Neytiri taking her place on the overly large bed as he and Norm settled into chairs.

"That knowledge is deeply unsettling." Neytiri admitted after she had gotten comfortable. "The Great Mother truly is in great pain at the moment."

"She had some of the warriors who still had _ikran_ head to the nearby clans to see if any other _tsahik_was able to get through to her." Norm spoke up, "They should be back in a day or two with news, but..."

"But it's probable that she isn't going to be speaking with them either." he finished for him. "And we have no idea how long it might take for her to overcome the backlash of so much death."

Neytiri sighed as she closed her eyes, "The Great Mother will speak to her children when she is ready. Until then, we must trust in her and keep faith that she will once more show us the path to maintain the balance of all life."

The two scientists quietly backed out of the room to award her her sleep, slowly shutting the door behind them and heading out into the open.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Norm asked him as they leaned against the wall of the Ops-Center.

"With what? Eywa?" he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, fighting the urge to run a hand through his hair.

"I don't know." he admitted eventually, "I hope that she realizes what happened, that war isn't the answer, that it will only bring more pain than she can bear. But.. all the same, I hope that the UN's reinforcements know what they're doing. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

"Yeah." Norm sighed slowly pushed off, "Well, I actually have some work to do, Thomes wants a full briefing on the local fauna ready when she gets back."

"And I need to get back to Selfridge about Hell's Gate." he responded with a small smile, "Strange to have deadlines and meetings again, isn't it?"

"A bit." Norm smiled in return, heading towards the Apartment Complex, "See you at dinner!"

He waved a hand in response before turning to head into the airlock.

_A meeting with Selfridge, followed by dinner, followed by research, followed by sleep. _Smiling to himself, he began to plan out the rest of his week as the door quietly shut behind him.

* * *

**Next up: Epilogue – Pandoran Winter**

And here is Chapter 43, the last full chapter in Semper Victoria. Originally, before I planned the sequel, there was going to be a four-part epilogue detailing Parker, Max, Mo'at, and Thomes' futures, but as it is, the epilogue is going to be more of a tie-in to Semper Furor.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter, I'm not sure I did the best job wrapping the ending up to be honest, hope it isn't too bad. Though I suppose that there is a sequel taking place after this renders less need for that, in the end.

**Please keep reviewing!**

**Review Responses:**

Croc117: glad you like it, and expect those errors to be fixed soon.

insanduk: very glad that you like it, and glad you noticed the emphasis on realism that I tried to portray.

AndreyRus: yes there is, the title explains it a bit I think.

wired dragon: you'll get to 'see' the colony ISV's in the sequel. The deleted scenes do a much better job of portraying Jake as being stuck between a rock and a hard place than the movie does, giving me a bit more sympathy for the character.

_Author's Note:_

Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed and read, and I hope you all enjoyed the fic and that you all enjoy the sequel. The final, fixed and proof-read copy of Semper Victoria will be up by the end of this week, but expect Furor to be published before then.

Kat


	49. Epilogue: Pandoran Winter

- There is a disclaimer here. Trust me, I'm a programmer. -

* * *

**Epilogue: Pandoran Winter  
**

**Date: **January 20th, 2173

**Location: **_Omaticaya Kelutral_, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"_My Jake, he is your son as well!" _she hissed quietly at her mate, tail still despite her anger, as the two slowly walked together, alone but for the trees.

"_That does not mean that I approve of the path that he is set on!"_ he hissed back, "_Why does he insist on hating the sky people so, even though I used to be one, even though they saved your life, even though they have abided by the restrictions that they placed upon themselves!?_"

She sighed and turned to stare at her _sxkwang_, "_Because he knows that he will never live up to his namesake, that he will never not be eclipsed by your Toruk. Because he still blames them for my wounds, and the scars upon Eywa_."

Her mate sighed and stopped next to her, leaning forwards to rest his forhead against hers, "_I know, I know. But doesn't he also see how many fell trying to fight them? How terrible their weapons were?"_

A wan smile curved her mouth as she gently kissed him, "_Your own bravery and mind betrayed you there. Tsu'tey told me this morning that he believes that had the others not rushed into the battle, your methods of fighting would have seen the sky people slain and routed in due time, that the other Olo'eyktan and Tsahik should have listened to your wisdom._"

Jake laughed without humor, shaking his head and sitting on the forest floor beside her. "Hoisted by my own petard." the _inglisi _came haltingly from his lips, as it so often did, the strange phrase's exact meaning escaped her, but she knew her Jake well enough by now to recognize sadness deep within him.

Kneeling slowly, she carefully held him in her arms before slowly joining him in _tsaheylu_, accepting his pain as her own, feeling him gasp as her own calm washed through their link to him.

The two sat, entwined, unmoving, letting their emotions slowly roll between them, letting the sadness and anxiety of their eldest son's actions wash away beneath the weight of their love.

Long after the sun had begun to set, they slowly and reluctantly broke apart, moving hand in hand back towards the _kelutral_, nodding at the hunters slowly returning to their home for the night, some carrying kills upon their backs.

Talking easily with the hunters about the day's kills as they prepared them was a further relaxation, pushing the dark thoughts of the future away in exchange for the placidity of the work and talk.

After helping clean and prepare a _yerik_ for the night's feast, the two settled in next to a fire, smiling as they watched the meat slowly cook.

Mo'at joined them shortly, her elderly face betraying none of the small aches and pains that old age brought as she settled down next to them.

"Max'patel _sends his greetings._" she began after the three exchanged their normal greetings, "_And wishes to tell you that everything is still fine at the sky people's homes."_

"_That is good news." _Jake reached out, beginning to work off a piece of meat for the three to share. "_And how did your visit to Eywa go?_"

"_The Great Mother seems well, and the balance of life in the area seems to be restored once more._" there was a contentment in the way she smiled that reassured Neytiri, "_We saw many nantang cubs playing in the woods near the great tree, my old heart was warmed by the sight. The sky people warriors with us said it was like watching the cubs of creatures from their homeworld, albeit ones with more legs._"

"Wolves." her Jake grunted, "_The sky people call the nantang _Viper-Wolves _because of how similar they are. The hunt and act much the same._"

"_How strange_." her mother murmured, before nodding and accepting the piece of meat offered to her.

Any further discussion on the matter was silenced by a delighted shout, _"Mother!"_

Two small children stumbled along, tails swishing in excitement, and she grinned fiercely at her young children as they leaped at her. Any attempt at eating was thrown from her mind as she laughed and held her twin daughters, smiling as a tired looking Peyral stumbled into the light of the cooking fire.

"_Ah, good, they have found you, perhaps I may sleep now?_ Her friend asked, sounding as tired as she looked.

"_What's the matter?" _her mate positively cooed at the esteemed hunter, "_Taking care of two tiny children too much for the hunter who slew a palulukan?"_

"_Not any children, just your children Olo'eyktan. They could tire even the strongest Pa'li." _she smiled wanly, gratefully accepting a slice of meat and digging in.

For her part, Netyiri smiled and laughed at the customary banter, her children laughing with her before leaping from her arms and attempting to tackle their father.

Tsu'tey emerged amidst the frivolity, his serious face softened by a grin as he watched his father 'fight' against his younger sisters.

And for just one night, they were simply another family of Na'vi, smiling and playing underneath the great boughs of their _kelutral_, not minding the darkening future that they knew would one day come.

* * *

**Date: **January 20th, 2173

**Location**: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

He was dead.

He _knew_ that he was dead.

The question merely was _how _he was going to die.

Ok, so he _shouldn't _have had so much to drink the previous night.

Ok, so he _should_ have known better than to get into a drunken argument with Thomes over the last-second goal that had seen his team defeat hers, yet again.

Now, he was staring blankly at the ceiling above the bunk in his room, having already seen not only the disaster that his room had somehow turned into, but also the sleeping blonde form directly next to him.

He had already tried to flee the scene of the crime, only to find that one of his arms was pinned underneath of her, and to belatedly realize that she would still wake up, without any clothes on, in what was obviously his room, and that running would only increase the level of pain he would suffer before he died.

Part of him recognized that he was being overly dramatic about the situation, but his hangover fogged brain was utterly avoiding that fact as it fought to find a way out of the situation.

A long groan came from next to him, and he froze utterly.

_Please let her still be drunk somehow, something, anything!_ He thought frantically.

The groan cut-off suddenly, the warm body pressed against him stiffening.

"Parker?" her voice was hoarse.

It took him a while to find his voice, "Yes?"

A long pause, "Did we..?"

"I.. I think so."

Another long pause. "Close your eyes. I'm going to dress, and leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will drag you up to the _Dream_ and airlock you."

He could only nod, keeping his eyes closed as the warmth of her presence moved away, quick rustling of clothing and soft cursing filled the small room before the door opened and shut.

Cautiously, he opened his eyes and glanced around.

Alone.

"Oh thank god." he collapsed back in his bunk, the panic fading and reality slowly returning.

He had slept with Maria Thomes, resident commander in chief and all-around ice queen.

_Briefings are going to be awkward for a very long time._ He thought to himself, slowly disentangling his body from the sheets and stumbling into the shower.

After freshening up and finding his clothes, he set to work cleaning the place up. He had no idea what the two of them had done during their drunken tryst, but it had torn his room apart. Part of him was cursing the fact that he couldn't remember a thing, after all, though her personality could border on grating, she was quite attractive. The other half of his mind was still firmly in denial, utterly certain that she would carry out her threat and that the best way to overcome this situation was to pretend it never happened.

At least he could still remember enough about the game the previous night, and at least the first half of the party that had destroyed most of their illicit stock of alcohol, to be able to talk intelligibly about it with his equally hungover, and far more cheery, mining team members as he made his way to the cafeteria for breakfast.

"Bacon." one of the soldiers ahead of him practically salivated over the word as the smell drifted into the corridor, and everyone who had not yet eaten quickened their pace.

After standing in line for far too long, he took a seat, eagerly wolfing down the bacon, though undoubtedly artificial, it was still excellent, and sipping coffee as he glanced around the packed room.

He caught Thomes' eye as she ate her breakfast from a table on the other side of the room, and they both quickly found reasons to glance elsewhere.

Still, he had to smile as everyone talked animatedly about the night before, men and women pounding the backs and congratulating members of both teams when they sat to eat.

He smiled and waved to a group of his miners as they left the room, a chorus of "Morning Sir!" echoing in the crowded space as they raced to guzzle some coffee before heading out to the mine. _Awkwardness of this morning aside, it was a rather pleasant evening_. _An exciting game, a wild party, just what the men needed to welcome the new guys and girls and to try and forget just where we are and the dangers we face._

Settling back into his chair, he slowly continued eating, concentrating on enjoying the food as much as he could. Experience had taught him that you enjoyed what moments you could on this god-forsaken moon, because terror and madness was always right around the corner.

* * *

**_End – Semper Victoria (Always Victory)_**

_Well, that was good times, hope everyone enjoyed the ride and liked my first attempt at a structured story. It turned out to be both much longer and much more popular than I ever imagined it would be, so special thanks go out to everyone who read, and double-thanks to everyone who reviewed. _

_I hope that my attempt at portraying a balanced na'vi and humanity came across well, expect more from the na'vi point of view in the upcoming sequel, though I won't be cutting back any of the level of human development. _

_Again, thank you to all reviewers, you made me enjoy writing this fic._

_~ Kat_


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